Your Choice of Flower
by Minute-Maid511
Summary: Alicia Rose defines perfection. Lily Evans is a demon with a wicked smile. James Potter is the unfortunate soul engaged to one and falling flat on his face for the devil incarnate.
1. That Which Has Thorns

Harry Potter

Your Choice of Flower

Synopsis:

James Potter is due to marry Alicia Rose in the spring—it has always been like this and he has never complained. Alicia is the sensible, supportive and ideal woman for James and he feels he can come to love her. It is unfortunate that Lily Evans is spring rain, is summer heat and is the smell of roses fluttering on the breeze.

Chapter One: That Which has Thorns

"We will look splendid together."

"We always have, James Potter, we always have."

James smiled at his fiancée, Alicia Rose. They were due to wed in the spring of their final school year and they had simply spent the summer away with each other until the beginning of the new school year at Hogwarts. This was to be their final year and they would be married before they graduated.

It had always been like this, ever since they were children, they had been promised in marriage. It was something their parents both wished for and it was something they had decided would be workable—they had no say in the matter anyway. The first time they were properly introduced to each other was as fiancés anyway. What difference would a couple months from now to their marriage mean?

James smiled at Alicia—the sensible, the smart and charming Alicia Rose. Alicia was ideal for him, calm, sedate and warming with her grace and elegance. There was a flow about Alicia that nobody else had and James had come to admire that quality of her—like many other qualities he had admired about her.

They had known each other since childhood and spent much of it within this courtyard and specifically within this garden. They would often play games as children and had laughed in the rain as teenagers in their fourth year. They had kept each other warm during the winter and splashed about with the hose during the summer. Virtually all the time spent outside of school was with the other—just as their parents had organized it from the beginning.

Yes, well off and married to Alicia Rose was how it was supposed to be.

"It's only less than a year now. Everyone at school knows it, but how will they react? The teachers will have to get used to calling me Mrs Potter rather than Miss Rose."

James took her hand and kissed it lightly. "They shall just have to get used to it. A springtime wedding; just like my parents. The dress will look wonderful on you; you'll make a beautiful bride."

"You will look a wonderful groom," she said, smiling at him.

Giving a soft laugh, James sighed. "Nothing will change between you and I from now and then, right?"

Alicia smiled, staring at her feet like she would when she was younger. "Of course not, James. Nothing will change. We're always together now, we will be then too. No, nothing will change," she said softly.

"You know what's funny, we are getting married and we haven't even kissed or said the 'I love you's' to each other," he said plainly, thinking how odd it was that they were getting married and something like this never occurred. Naturally, it was an arranged marriage and thus a different situation, but after all this time, you would think something might be said along those lines.

Alicia took his hand and held it in her own. "We don't need to say what's already known, James. We don't need to do what we will have the rest of our lives to do. It is far better to wait. Desert after dinner, yes? Then again, I remember a silly boy who would come over for dinner and sneak me cookies and cake beforehand. Heavens, I pity my parents those days."

James laughed. "You liked it all the same."

"Tsk, tsk, James, you spoil me so."

"It is only natural, Alicia Rose," he said softly, the thought of being a married man come spring still not settling down after all these years.

Alicia nodded and let go of her hand. "It _is_ only natural. It is natural… but, James, do you think it is right? Are we truly meant for each other? We haven't been given the option to find out."

James put a hand around her shoulder and she smiled. "We will look splendid together, won't we?"

The smile tugged at her lips and eventually broke through. "We always have, James, you know that; we always have."

"Then that's enough."

"Yes, that's enough."

* * *

Comments:

A wonderful start, I think.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	2. Flower Like No Other

Chapter Two: Flower like No Other

With not but a week before the start of school, James had parted ways with Alicia—like he always did, leaving her with a bouquet of her namesake. During this mind-numbing week in the sometimes hot and sometimes cool afternoons of the end of summer, he often found himself taking walks through the nearby park—close to the Potter estate.

It was nothing against the gardener of the courtyard and gardens—it was simply the place he spent time with Alicia—a place he didn't want to mill about alone. Whenever he was there alone it always made him feel that he would be alone for the rest of his life even though he was getting married. James often wondered if it was still possible to be alone even though you would be married.

Deep thoughts like that could only be considered when not in a place that spoke of Alicia Rose.

Sitting down on a bench, James stared out at the fountains that lined up in a row, with trim hedges on each side of the walkway, benches around every other fountain and lining the stone path by the hedges. It was the only straight part of the path that circled around through this park and James made a routine to stop by here—away from the hustle and bustle of the Potter affairs within the mansion to glean some time for himself.

Before and after the school year was always a menacing time, to be sure.

Across from him, he saw a girl with bright red hair straight as a ruler in a dress that was white as snow with a pretty white hat to match. She was swinging her feet from out under the bench while throwing breadcrumbs at the birds around her—breadcrumbs far too small to be a profitable venture for most of the birds there—but it seemed that they simply gravitated around her for her pretty smile and pretty white hat.

Laughing to himself at the sight of this girl who must be not much younger than him, he stopped when he heard her start to sing lovely words to a lovely tune. It was a merry melody and something that spoke volumes completely of spring. Still swinging her feet, she sung softer when a nearby feathered occupant flew up on the bench and she reached her hand out to it with breadcrumbs far too small in the palm of her hand as an offering of friendship.

The wary bird came a little closer and ate out of her hand a bit before flying off.

"Well, you can always come back for more, I suppose, my feathered friend, yes? I will be here, just as I always am, I suppose you can go visit that boy over there, he is always here as well."

James looked left and right and saw only himself. When he looked back at her, he saw clear sparkling green eyes staring at him from out under her pretty white hat. "Are you talking about me?" he asked her warily, slightly aware that she must have caught him staring at her some time ago.

The girl got up and the birds all scattered away from her as she walked over to him. Once she was up a bit closer, he saw that her pretty white dress came down to her knees while the bow trailed longer somewhere near her ankles.

"Silly boy, who else am I talking about? The birds? A tree maybe? Of course you."

James sighed. "I see. Well, I'm sure the birds are much more interested in the breadcrumbs you've got than me."

The girl laughed. "Birds have _many_ interests, just like me. I have many interests as well. My name is Lily Evans, and you are?"

"James Potter," he said reflexively, "pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lily Evans."

Lily laughed. "How proper. What a silly duck you are with all your mannerisms. Or perhaps I should call you a peacock, since you seem the type to strut around with your tail feathers fanned out for everyone to see."

"Pardon me?" James asked incredulously, hardly believing a word out of this girl's mouth.

"Oh you with your 'pardon me's' and 'excuse me's' and all manner of this and me. Silly boy, life is for living. I frankly think you've spent a good eighty percent of your life saying 'excuse me' and 'pardon me' and handing out your 'thank you's' to everyone you've met that the last twenty percent of your life are for sleep," she told him. As she said this, she backed up from him and started dancing up and around the benches and around the fountain, as if the ripples in the water were highly interesting for her to simply observe.

James huffed and folded his arms, standing up in indignation, frowning disdainfully at this reckless girl who couldn't care less for the politics of manners. "Don't you care what others think about you?" he asked bluntly. "Don't you care if they think you're nice enough or not?"

Lily flashed him a bright smile, her eyes twinkling like the sparkling water she set her eyes upon once more, running a hand through the cold depths. "If I spent my life worrying about that I'd turn into an old codfish like you. Boys and girls like you age from within although you may be as pretty as a peach from without. As for being nice enough, do you think I am nice enough?"

Pursing his lips slightly, James admitted that, yes, despite her opinions, she was polite and 'nice enough' to him during their short encounter that seemed to last forever in frustration and only moments in peace.

"You are certainly nice enough, Miss Evans," he said cordially, not wanting to break his stride or pride—when he thought of this he decided that it would most definitely be something Lily would have laughed at.

Smiling once more, she twirled her finger in circles in the water. "There, you see? Sincerity is the key to being 'nice enough.' Throw around enough 'thank you's' and 'golly gee's' and no one believes a word you say will ever be kind enough. Do you think I am a sincere person, James? Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Potter," she amended mockingly, a hand over her mouth in a falsified gasp.

Huffing, James sighed. "You're insufferable. I should leave."

"Tut tut, Mr Potter, my question remains unanswered, do you think I am a sincere person?"

James looked at her sparkling smile and her bright eyes and sighed. Alicia was never like this, and he was happy for that since it meant he would never have to put up with this sort of bold and unbecoming behaviour from her.

"Yes, you are sincere."

"Most excellent! To a complete stranger I am sincere! So, Mr Potter, shall we walk?"

James frowned as she took his arm lightly, smiling up at him. Shaking it out of her grasp, he sighed at her. "I am an engaged man, Miss Evans, I cannot—"

"Boy," she interrupted.

"Pardon me?" he asked rhetorically, furrowing his brows together at her in a deep rooted frown typical only of James Potter when something was amiss.

Lily merely laughed at him. "You sound like such an old man, Mr Potter, perhaps it is right I should call you that. I am a girl and you are not much older than me, therefore you are a boy, you silly duck," she said, taking his arm once more and tugging him along for the simple walk she so desired.

Thankfully, James had a quick enough wit to keep up with her and staggered along until he was able to match her stride. "I am still engaged to one Alicia Rose."

"Has she thorns?" Lily asked suddenly, cutting off his next effective sentence that would have most likely detailed all about Alicia.

James turned his head at her, giving her an incredulous look. "Thorns?"

"Rose. Alicia _Rose_. Has she thorns?" Lily asked playfully, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips—meaning she knew full well she was simply making fun of all this.

James glared at her meaningfully. This childish behaviour must stop. "Of course she does not have thorns. Alicia is the most even-tempered and loving girl I have ever known. I am fortunate to be engaged to her. We are due to marry in the spring."

Lily sighed and breathed in the fresh summer breeze, spring was still a long way to come. "An arranged marriage, how sad. You've no love in your life."

James scoffed. "What do you know of love?" he asked, rolling his eyes at her.

Frowning, Lily made a face at him before fluttering her eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me, Mr Potter or I will flutter mine at you. I'll make eyes at you and she'll be jealous. You speak admirably of Alicia, but not of a boy, _or even a man_," she added laughingly, "in love! You speak of her as I might speak of her. Alicia Rose, I know nothing of her but she must be something great for someone," she demonstrated in a very factual tone. "You know, if you need a love, I don't mind being your lover."

James stopped and withdrew his arm from her grasp. "So that's your game?"

"Game? _Excuse you_, Mr Potter, but I dislike games. I said I don't mind, I never said I would be. Tsk, tsk, you silly boy, I only find boys my age and preferably a bit more taller than me the least bit charming—not dotty old men who speak like grandmothers."

Growing red in the face at the insult after insult, James opened his mouth to speak at her but found no words of rebuttal or even in the realm to scold her. James had never met anyone with her personality type before and he certainly found her a refreshing breath of clear air away from the technicalities of speech and saying this when you meant that.

The bold and subtle charms of this girl were unfathomable, yet he still had to remember he was very much engaged to and very much supposed to be in love with Alicia Rose. They grew up together after all—they knew everything of each other. It was meant to be this way that they married each other.

Wasn't it?

"And you speak like a child."

Lily threw her head back in laughter, turning back and walking backwards, still facing him. "Better a child than a dotty old housewife, Mrs Potter!" she exclaimed.

As she continued back, laughing and smiling at him all the way, James saw the fountain behind her and opened his mouth to caution her before she yelped and fell in backwards into the shallow water, getting soaked through top to toe—her pretty white hat sailing off her head harmlessly to the side. Shaking herself off a bit, she splashed the water about a bit before James came over while she grinned like a loon at him. Giving her an exasperated look, he did what any gentleman would do for a lady and offered her a hand up.

Lily took his hand gracefully and James felt the softness of her hand—wet—but still very soft. He could not spend long on this reverie, however, for she pulled him down into the water. James lost his footing at this sudden pull and tripped over the edge of the fountain, landing overtop her in water that would have reached just below his knees.

Naturally, he should have foreseen this as Lily Evans was far from a lady.

Lily smiled at him. "Feel enough like a boy yet, James? You're just as wet as I am now!" she said quietly before James quickly scrambled off her and onto his back into more water. Lily merely laughed at this display and James found a smile coming to the corner of his lips despite being soaked to the skin. Sitting up, Lily got to her feet and out of the fountain, wringing out her skirt and hair. Grabbing her white hat—dry as a bone—and setting it upon her wet head, she smiled at him and gave him so elegant a curtsey that James could have sworn she took lessons for it.

"Well, Mr James Potter, what a pleasure it was to meet you, however, there are fountains here and in those fountains are water. I'm sorry if you've fallen madly in love with me, but it will never do, you are practically a married boy. Anyway, my goal for the day is accomplished and I will take my fine leave of you, ta," she said, spinning round and walking off, water still dripping from her skirt and her shoes still leaving prints on the cement.

James quickly scrambled out of the fountain, thankful that these clothes were not terribly important. "Your goal for the day?" he yelled out at her retreating back.

Lily turned around to face him but did not stop—the same as before but avoiding any more fountains down the road of the park. "There are fountains here, you silly duck! With water! Stick that equation in your mild-mannered head and solve it!" she yelled back at him before turning back around and continuing her walk, singing the same tune he had found her with.

Sighing exasperatedly, James sat down on the nearby bench—a wet bench, but then again so was he. "Fountains and water. All she wanted was to get me wet."

* * *

To My Reviewers:

All hail shameless self-promotion! Thank you for your reviews everyone! An especial thank you to everyone who has effectively started reading Your Choice of Flower fresh from reading Rain. Love you to bits! I really do!

Comments:

I loved this chapter, it was such a joy to write.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	3. Differences of One and Two

Chapter Three: Differences of One and Two

"Now it is the first day as Head Boy, James; make a good impression on them all. Show them that you're more than just a Marauder, yes?" Alicia said to him, smiling as she adjusted his tie and collar, smoothing over his hair like she was wont to do. She had gotten into a habit of fixing his appearance since their fifth year and it never quite left her. Most likely, it was her way of adjusting to the fact that she would marry this boy standing in front of her with laces so straight they would rival a ruler.

Of course, laces that the majority saw.

James smiled at her and for a moment they held each other's eyes. It felt natural to be there, staring into her amber eyes framed with her ash blonde hair. It was moments like these they had that, certainly, the silly promises their parents made for each other were meant to be. Everything was as it should in moments like these.

"Of course I will, after all, I have to make a good impression on not only the teachers but the Head Girl as well, she must have done a lot to get that position if she beat you. That was your goal, wasn't it? To be Head Girl?"

Alicia smiled slightly before looking away. "I have a lie to confess, James, I've never wanted to be Head Girl. Somewhere along I lost the taste for it and when it was finally mine… I just suddenly didn't want it. They said it was a hard decision too between me and that other girl."

James took her hand and kissed it. "It would have been a very easy decision for me."

"Hey, you lovebirds over there, the train will leave without you—not that I'd think you'd care. It's just that McGonagall and old Dumbledore won't approve very much of the Head Boy being late!" Sirius called out to them, motioning frantically with his hands as the train blew its whistle and started off to a very stiff, very slow chug down the tracks.

James' eyes widened significantly and he took Alicia by the hand—they could both run as fast thanks to four years of Quidditch and James' ridiculous training regiment. When they nearly were at the end of the platform, Sirius held out his hand for James to grab and pulled them all onto the train before shutting the door behind them.

Grinning from ear to ear as he glanced down at their still coupled hands, Sirius sighed. "Fashionably late, Head Boy, Mrs Potter. My, my, sparks _did_ fly over the summer didn't they?" he said, trying to tease them. It had, in the past, worked easily on both James and Alicia, however, since facing facts, it was—and they had both come to conclusion to—something that would just be.

James sighed. "Thank you, Sirius," he said in an irritable monotone, although he never let go of Alicia's hand. "Anyway, let's find ourselves a compartment, shall we?"

As James was about to move on, Sirius held out a hand in front of him, barring his path. "Forgetting our responsibilities already? You've a date with the Head Girl up front, James, no offences to you, Mrs Potter, protocol and everything. It's just business, you see," he said with a sage nod of his head her way.

Realizing that Sirius spoke the truth—in that glib manner of his that made you not believe a thing he said—James let go of her hand—but not before kissing it—and took a step back before bowing to her. "Well, I'll meet up with you at school then. Sirius, take good care of her," he added threateningly. Giving one last good look at her, he could see that this was definitely the right thing to do. There was no other girl that could compare with Alicia Rose. This girl in front of him personified everything a lady should ever be.

Sirius bowed to him as he walked off. "I always do, don't I?"

James sighed, recounting many times he had left her in the dust to pursue greater things that caught his fancy. Thankfully Alicia was smart enough to take care of herself except for the one day it rained and Sirius ditched her without an umbrella in Hogsmeade.

As he strolled down the train, making as little eye-contact as possible, James wondered who had made it to be the Head Girl—and who had simply worked her tail off as much as Alicia to deserve it as much as her. The way Alicia had described the match and decision sounded so similar to a toss of a coin that James wondered if it was.

Getting a quick speech ready for her, he opened the car door and the words were stuck in his mouth—his tongue glued to the roof. It seemed nothing in his body worked anymore for he felt his entire central and peripheral nervous system shut down. It was unfathomable, it was unspeakable, it was plain unbelievable. How on earth was this girl sitting here—sitting here where the Head Girl should be sitting.

Holding out a dainty hand, she smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. "We meet again, Mr Potter," she said, lavishing him with her sparkling, smiling green eyes and matching rose red lips.

"Lily Evans!?" he cried, distraught for only a moment. Why had he not recognized her name? Her voice? Her bright red hair? Lily was the only one in the entire school with ridiculously bright red natural hair—a prefect no less just as he was before. How on earth did he just deem to forget this individual except for that time in the park where he swore they first met?

Lily withdrew her hand and blinked, startled. "Why, yes, that is, in fact, what they call me. Not so loud, though, you can imagine," she added as an afterthought.

With no clear thought plausible in sight, James was at a loss for words and instead reflexes took over with baser instincts on his part. "What the bloody blazes are you doing here? Where's the Head Girl and what _have_ you done with her?" he sputtered in a string of intelligible words that seemed entirely incoherent to him.

Sighing indiscriminately, Lily shook her head at him, _tsking_. "My dear, dear Mr Potter, I _am_ the Head Girl. I've only had competition for it since third year when Alicia Rose suddenly dropped out from the competition. Some bout of flu stuffed up in her head, I'd imagine. Lost her wits against true genius. I've been top in the grade since first you know. I don't mean to brag and I'm only replaying what McGonagall has said but I'm 'the smartest in the school.' Funny isn't it? How a muggle-born is probably better than all the purebloods the school can hold?"

Words fluttered through James' mind—all consisting of both thin and thick phrases, loud and long syllables and about a million different things he simply wanted out of his mouth but would not form properly as a means to do so. The thought that shattered this all was the sheer wonder how he had managed to live his entire seven years at Hogwarts not knowing the very name of this individual up until recent transgressions occurring at the park.

Amidst all this was Lily Evans, squawking her head off like the parrot she was making herself out to be. It was then and there that he reflexively knew what he would want to say to her in the next three seconds.

"You are a parrot."

And so he said it; thus shutting her up for a good ten seconds before her laughter cut through his amazing conclusion about this walking contradiction in front of him. Therefore, it was no surprise when the inevitable happened to James—who was known for his less than even temper at times. Irritation set in.

"Yes, so I have, coincidentally, been told. I am a parrot—loved by all, envied by thousands. My darling Em tells me so."

"Em?" he asked before his brain could catch up. James' brain was stuck approximately two minutes ago when he announced her name quite loudly in shock and most likely amazement.

"Yes; Emily Richardson. She's better at Transfigurations than me you know. That one subject I lack very much in. My dreams to be a great Transfigurations teacher shall have to be dashed before they are realized!" she added dramatically, holding a hand to her forehead as if faint.

Blinking at this, James shook his head and simply found he had to ask once more—so that he could make sure reality—or Lily Evans (who was in no way even a mile close to reality)—was not pulling a fast one on him.

That would be gravely tragic and possibly funny.

"You are the Head Girl?"

Lily sighed in frustration, crossing her arms and looking slightly cross—but for only a second. Lily's was one of those faces that you could nearly never imagine frowning for extended periods of time. It seemed that, in the same way frowning might stick your face; there had just been a perpetual smile upon hers that had done the same.

Grinning wide, she sat down on the train seat, leaning an elbow upon the window sill and cocking her head back at him. Nodding furiously, making her red hair shake with it, she shrugged.

"Silly duck. I have the pin on, I must be. What? You think I drugged the real one on something muggle and tossed her out the window like refuse? Sweet Merlin, that _does_ sound like something I might do—should I ever become desperate enough. Somehow this was won on pure merit."

Another blink. "Merit?"

Lily nodded. "Yes, merit. Even ragtag delinquents have merit enough to be Head Girl, James Potter. That's what you think of me, isn't it? Ever since that day I got you wet. By the way, did you figure out the equation?" she asked, a slight smile upon her lips.

Huffing, James found enough nerves and wits to finally sit down and stare out the window at the moving scenery before him—eyes completely off Lily. "Yes, I did, in fact. All you wanted was to get me wet. There were fountains there, I somehow should have known."

Lily laughed and it rung in his ears like ivory. "You didn't even know who I was then, you would have no other assumption about me other than the fact that I was a lovely girl in a lovely white dress with a lovely white hat. I don't blame you, your eyes are far too much glued to another flower of a different—much more classy and charming type. Roses and Lilies, we are one, but not the same."

Once again, her cryptic way of speaking came into play. They always alluded to some common phrase completely mixed up for what it was. It irritated James, yet it was entertaining to see how her mind worked as to mangle such common phrasings. The way she was able to simply ramble on about nothing in particular gave her a childlike persona—it was cute in a way.

No, no, it wasn't. It wasn't entertaining _or_ cute; it was just frustrating and irritating.

But cute nonetheless.

"Well, I know who you are now—and I still wonder if I know who the real Head Girl is."

A puff of air was shot in his face and he turned to see Lily had leaned forward a bit with a frown on her face to blow on his. Frowning, James had the amazing urge to blow air right back at her—especially with her face a reasonable distance away to do so. It would be utterly childish though and the repercussions of that he didn't know.

Probably nothing.

Maybe something.

"Old man Potter, you sure are childish sometimes."

"And you're not?" he asked shot back at her, voice rising slightly.

"I never said I wasn't," she returned, sitting back down, folding her arms. "Now, you childish schoolboy, we have Head matters to discuss—so stop blowing air into other peoples faces like a two-year-old. Silly duck," she added belatedly with a slant smile.

The incredible urge to reprimand that mouth of hers was nearly irresistible, yet James held his tongue in place—if for no other reason than to show her up that he was more mature than she was. Then again, it was true, she didn't deny her childishness.

Yet it was there and she never said she was.

But then wouldn't _not_ admitting that you _weren't_ childish mean that she was admitting she _was_ childish? Indirectly? Merlin, why was he even thinking about something as stupid as this? Whether she was childish or not shouldn't—

"Say it," he found his mouthing blurting out of its own accord.

Lily blinked. "Pardon? Say what? That you've lost your mind? Gladly, Old Man Potter has—"

"No! That you are childish. Say that."

Truly confused, Lily stared at him, dumbfounded. There were a few seconds of silence that even Lily did not break before her steady reply: "Why?" It was blunt; it was oh so to the point and it was charming. The way she said it oddly charmed him and he enjoyed it.

Wait! No, he didn't. This girl frustrated him and that's all there is to it.

Yet she did so in a very cute way.

"Just because. Appease my childish inner turmoil that way. Please," he added belatedly after."

No, Lily Evans was in no way cute.

Huffing, Lily shook her head before a slant smile slid upon her lips like a snake. It was now that those lovely features of hers masterfully worked themselves into the very visage of something or someone that he should very much avoid at all costs. "To Old Man Potter, I say this: I, Lily Evans, am not as childish as to be childish but not as grown up to be an adult who wants to be a child that wants to be an adult that wants to be a child that is an adult, and am thus an adult who wishes she were a child that is an adult yet is so childish that they cannot be an adult yet can be childish—"

"Alright, alright shut up! Just shut up!" he said vehemently. Somehow, he knew this would happen, yet something told him that he was anticipating her answer to such a question more than the irritation that came with that answer. All in all, he was satisfied with her unsatisfactory answer—even though he questioned _she_ even knew where she was going with that and where it would end up—in tangles most likely.

Lily laughed.

Grumbling, James stood up. "Well, since you will not be serious about it, I'm going back. This was a waste of my valuable time."

Lily smiled slyly after him. "And just how much is Old Man Potter's time worth? A knut? How about a pence? Or maybe you're a little more foreign and take pennies!" she said between uncontrollable bouts of laughter.

Miss Evans had gone travelling during her summers, it seemed. Or at least read about such things. Perhaps to make his life more miserable—but no, that would require much more talent and much more preparation.

Then again… she was fairly talented to make Head Girl.

Correction, she was talented enough to fake Head Girl—for such a lie he would not be so bold as to believe she earned it through merit. Bribery was a better option than merit for explaining this catastrophe he still couldn't accept.

Pursing his lips, James slid the door shut behind him and started walking off, but not before catching a glimpse of her singing voice as she started to sing. He had heard her sing once before, but it was a fairly fragmented song with no clear lyrics and a mix of humming some queer tune and adding a few sentences or words here and there.

This was a fully-developed melody.

Somehow, James wondered why he had so much time to think about this melody when he realized that his feet had stopped moving for his ears to listen. Somewhere along the line he had lost control of his motor functions and half of his brain since meeting Lily Evans again since the park.

Turning back swiftly his three steps he had managed to take, he slid the door back open and saw her lips moving in song as she stared out the window. Eye twitching, he closed the door once again—yet his hand never left the handle. Like an idiot, he thought, he stood there with his door on a handle he never intended to open again for a good minute—listening to the song.

"My mother composed this song on the piano before she gave birth to me—she died when I was born. One of many reasons my sister Petunia hates me right now. It's called 'May Flower.' My father wanted to name me May, but my mother insisted on Lily, and so that's what happened."

If possible, James' lips formed an even flatter line and his words seemed to be lost somewhere deep inside his throat. Perhaps someone had found out how to stop time and rip his voice box out—for that was his precise feeling this moment. Whoever had done it, he desperately asked them to take out the non-functioning part of his brain as well and tune up his common sense and reasoning.

After a few more silent seconds, James thought he might just stand there forever like a lunatic with his hand on the handle. The silence other than her last words were terrible. Shouldn't he say something to her? It was said with such nonchalant reasoning that he found that these facts of her life were just that—facts. Whatever emotions were connected with them had been lost in the mail.

"Halloween dance, October thirty-first; Yule Ball, December fifteenth, three days before school ends for break; spring dance, April third; seventh year graduation ceremonies, June fourth. Four prefects to a house, they will take care of minor matters. You will be responsible for house call patrols at exactly twelve 'o clock every night. Heaven forbid you enter the towers—or dungeons—but make sure the students are there. Fifth year up violators will be punished by either myself or McGonagall. Be early for breakfast on Tuesdays so we may meet. Meetings with the prefects and McGonagall will be Tuesdays after classes finish. Arrive late and you'll receive a weeks detentions without good excuses—and ones from that idiot Sirius Black are no good—I have heard them all."

James blinked and found he was finally able to take his hand off the door handle. It sounded like Lily gave a shuddering sigh—as if she were crying—which was in no way possible. Not wanting to commit to or jumping to any conclusions, James found himself nodding dumbly—hoping he would remember all her instructions to the last detail—for they were sputtered with such accuracy and speed that the sheer amount of it all floored him.

"Ah, well, yes, I see. Ah, okay then. I… may I ask… are you crying… for some obscure reason or another?"

"Silly ducky, what would I have to cry about? Now go off to that lovely lady of yours—I'm sure she pines for you greatly. Or perhaps you'd like to stay here and tell her how you've cheated on her all this time with me?"

Turning a quick heel, James walked back down the corridor towards his compartment as fast and steady as his legs would take him and yet still be able to categorize his insane movements as walking. He could feel the heat in his face—secretly knowing that it was not because of what Lily had just said—well, yes, it was because of what she said, but not because of what she _said._ Naturally, when James thought of it this way, it had made no sense to him either, and yet it did.

Miffed like a schoolboy who had just been scolded, James walked back down to his compartment, hands in his pockets. Of course Lily Evans wouldn't cry; it seemed that girl was untouchable to both misery and sanity. Both had made some dire attempts, to be sure. His imagination was running wild, was all.

Lily Evans was an irritation—a nuisance.

The one he loved—no, that wasn't even the right word—cared for was, and has always been, Alicia Rose.

The sweet, kind, Alicia Rose who was everything good bottled into one. Nothing set her off—granted he never tried to. There was no reason for him to try—as sweet and kind as she was. The perfect lady—that was what Alicia Rose was. Everything about her was perfect and immaculate. Nothing was wrong with her and no fault could be found.

So very unlike Lily Evans, for whom you could see everything wrong with her and point out a thousand faults being nowhere near the end of that precarious list. In fact, there were so many things wrong with her that it was a wonder that she didn't just trip and break herself.

Yet, he secretly made a bet with himself that she would be cute while doing so.

The differences flooded his mind and James felt dazed, frustrated and amused by it all. As he continued walking, he felt someone grab for his hand and looked up into the most beautiful amber eyes you could imagine. All at once his heart slowed and his pulse died down. Alicia held his hands, staring into his eyes.

"James, you look dazed," she pointed out in even tones.

_Well, don't you look a frazzled boy, Potter_, he could imagine Lily saying right now.

James gasped slightly and immediately dropped Alicia's hands, feeling his pulse racing again. "I—yes, well, it has been an interesting meeting with the Head Girl. Very eventful and we got many things done—" all of which accounted to the irritation of one party "—and planned great things for this year. The Balls will be wonderful."

"The Head Girl… Lily Evans, yes? Such a nice girl, so very kind and polite. I can only hope that I could ever be as temperate as she is. What a calm head she has… My, that girl is top of our grade as well, yes?"

James simply stared at her, blinking. "_That_ girl?" was all that spurted from his mouth in the most uncouth, uncivilized way. He was brought up better, he knew, yet some things shock it right out of you.

"Yes," she confirmed.

The next few moments were indiscernible to James for he had suddenly lost all consciousness—his head feeling tremendously dizzy.

* * *

To My Reviewers:

nargle.hunter82: Luna Lovegood? Well, that wasn't my intent, but alright:)

messyblackhair66: Now that you mention that silly, silly thing, she certainly does say silly a silly lot of times. :) I'll keep that in mind--it does grate on the nerves. About her personality, of course it's not believable. That's all I'll comment about that for now.

Thanks for your reviewing love, warms my heart almost more than green tea if it weren't so much more material and physical than reviews!

Comments:

No comment. I actually had one about this chapter but it quite eluded my thoughts.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	4. Misgivings

Chapter Four: Misgivings

"Slacking off will do you no good, Old Man," came an irritated Lily. Her hands were folded indiscriminately and her gaze—which was very much so discriminate—upon him. It had not taken long for James to decide he did not like these kinds of her eyes upon him. In fact, only a few weeks passed with their muddled relation of her being Head Girl—which was still something nothing short of impossibility—and him being Head Boy.

These peering, gazing, piercing green eyes of hers that dug deep into the depths of his own—in comparison—weak hazel ones. They were like a snake's staring at a victim that knew its own fate.

Indeed, James knew his fate very well.

A frown came upon Lily's face as she sighed—righteously irritated now. Her foot tapped as she continued to stare down at him, attempting to muster whatever reserves of patience she didn't have—for hers was the most temperamental temperament he had ever had the sheer _joy_ of encountering. So pleasant a thing, from so unpleasant a person.

"This entire meeting you have done nothing but stare at me like a dumb fool."

Indeed he did. "It makes me wonder really if you are the one who has been Head Boy and they have not made some mistake."

No, no, they hadn't. "You are not the type of person I thought you were."

No, he—pardon? "There is a time for play and there is a time where some very serious work needs to be done."

What exactly did she think of him? "Honestly, you could say something instead of just staring at me like that. It's sort of creepy and very much like a stalker, you know."

James finally got to his feet. This entire time he had, indeed, been staring at her—staring at her lips, the way she spoke, the way she moved, the way she flipped her hair whenever she had the slightest reason to, the way she ran her hands through her luxurious fire red hair whenever she was bored or anxious. Of all this observation, he found out that her hair was her only true vanity.

Something about her… just made him want to watch her.

Slamming her hand down on the table, Lily grit her teeth, glaring at James. "You useless boy!" she screamed. "For the past five meetings you've been useless! The Headmaster has made a mistake about you. Apparently _I_ have made a mistake about you. Perhaps the runner-up _should_ have made Head Boy."

The stone-cold words snapped James out of his reverie and he pursed his lips. This tone of voice that came from her had been nothing like the last four meetings—where she had nagged and teased him about most everything. Perhaps it was simply a bad day for her, but whatever the cause, he did not want to be on the receiving end of it.

"Useless? Are you sure the useless one isn't you? The questionable Head Girl?" he returned.

Lily's eyes narrowed and anger and venom flashed in her eyes. "The only one who is in a position that is questionable for them is _you_, James Potter. That day in the train, I said silly things to you, but most of all, I remember I said you were a _child_, no more than a schoolboy. Now, when I see you, yes, you are. Completely, that's what you are. What's the matter with you?"

James looked away, distracted. "I've been distracted lately." For the betterment of all things and purposes, James stubbornly and insistently ignored exactly _that_ which he had been distracted by. Perhaps not so much _that_ as _who_ but—and that would be thinking about it and thus not ignoring it.

Statement closed.

"Your wedding?" That statement actually came as a surprise to him once he realized that he hadn't even thought about it once of his own free thoughts since the year started. "Alicia Rose? If so, I'll talk to her. Rose time is for another time, when you step in this room its Admiral Evans that owns your clock. I don't need my partner distracted!" she yelled, slamming her hand on the table once again.

James sighed and looked away. "It's not something I can help, Lily."

"Evans to you, Potter," she said curtly. "Shape up. This is strike one. As long as you're like this I call the shots, understand that, boy?" she said as she leaned closer, whispering it hauntingly in his ear.

His pulse quickened, but left as soon as it had come. "Perfectly."

"Then we are _perfectly_ suited for each other, yes?" she said, straightening up, a sly smile on her face. This time, James' heart sped up and did not stop. Lily moved as if to reach up to stroke his face—something that looked more like she was slapping him in slow motion—but halted her actions, making a fist and taking a step back gracefully—as if she had been doing graceful movements like that all her life. "Yet, not perfect enough, I think," she said smoothly, turning to leave the room, letting the door stay open for him.

James stood there a moment.

"Oh, Miss Evans, I—"

"Tut, tut, darling, Rose, to call me Evans is such a formality. You're marrying my partner there in the spring, call me Lily—only if I can call you Alicia, yes?"

Alicia smiled at that, James could tell by the short gasp of her breath. "O-of course, Lily! Thank you for taking such good care of him."

"Darling kitten, I haven't done anything for him, there's no need to thank me. Now, I have some work that demands my eyes, I'll leave you with your dashing fiancé in there."

James could hear Lily's footsteps as they left the vicinity. Only when they faded completely out of ear did he see Alicia stand in the doorway. This year, Alicia Rose was not Head Girl—nor was she even a Prefect any longer. No, she had denied the honour of both—or perhaps she had simply lost?

No, losing was impossible for the impossibly perfect Alicia Rose. _His_ Alicia Rose, he had to remind himself.

If that were true, though, why would she simply give up?

"James, shall we go to Hogsmeade? If you're not too busy being Head Boy, that is." Her hands were held together perfectly—like a lady. Right now, he could imagine those hands in that exact same position as he imagined staring at their wedding picture years later.

It would be a grand, yet simple event. All the best and the finest of all of Britain would be there to celebrate. This was a marriage that was slow to come, it seemed, having been built ground up straight from their birth. James was six months older than Alicia and the union was a perfect match. None saw any reason that it should not come to pass.

Taking her hand, he held it up to his lips and kissed it. "Of course, we can do anything you like."

Alicia smiled at him. Her smiles were always so quiet—yet sincere. They lacked substance, yet were full of grace and beauty. Somehow, James sought to find substance in those smiles—substance that was not there for him. In the back of his mind he resolved to even _create_ substance in them if he had to.

Regardless, his misgivings about the entire ordeal were lesser than the ideals of his parents—her parents—and their families. Such ideals could not possibly be avoided by any such means. It would be a tragic catastrophe if they both suddenly up and said they didn't want any part of this marriage. For starters, their families would be equally devastated for they had expected no other outcome. Neither of their parents got married to each other on whim, after all. They had laid out the same path for their children.

Love was something learned after all, was it not?

James dearly wanted to love Alicia, for all she was—for her quirks, for her funny ideals and for her funny ideas except for the outstanding fact that Alicia Rose was in no way funny. Prim and proper stalked her shadow so closely that they just could have been her shadow. There was not a speck of dust to be found on this living, breathing, porcelain doll of a lady.

"Well, that's splendid, I suppose," she added in a slightly lower tone.

James held his face from frowning and merely quirked his eyebrows at her. "You suppose? You suppose not to go, I suppose?" he asked, grinning.

Alicia merely looked at him and smiled. "Only if you want to go, James. Only if."

James immediately berated himself. Whoever he thought he was talking to just now, was obviously not that person. What on earth was he saying to her? What was with the 'suppose' and 'suppose' and further use—to a triplicate use of 'suppose' in a sentence that did not need, want or deserve such treatment? Somewhere in that exchange he felt that something was misplaced and lost both in translation and communication. All in all something had just been lost, right there.

"I actually have some Transfigurations work to catch up on. Head Boy does not let up on its duties," James actually had to bite his tongue on that one. "We can go some other time."

"Of course, I don't mind," Alicia said, with that nonchalant smile that cried nothing less than 'all's well here' written up on her face. When James saw this face, he couldn't help but think that everything _was_ all well with her too. Alicia was his best friend, to be sure; she was his fiancée, to be sure, but surely not by his own design.

Nodding in satisfaction, he took her hand and kissed it again. "Well, I'll be off to the dusty library then, I'll see you around, Rose."

It could have been his imagination, but Alicia's shoulders slumped ever so slightly—so slightly that he wouldn't have caught it if a reflection of that was not momentarily seen upon her face. Nodding, she regained whatever minor composure might have been lost and smiled once more. "Absolutely. I'll see you around too, Potter," she returned evenly, politely—so very natural that it made you wonder if she were hiding something while you knew that she very much was not capable of hiding anything of the sort.

As James turned his heel and started off the in the opposite direction, his mind wandered back over that conversation and realized that he had never particularly called her 'Rose' before and she had never a reason to call him 'Potter.' Their relationship was just that they could call each other up on such familiar basis. Unintentional, to be sure, but completely by design so very much that it was intentional.

Their families never minded that either—which was probably the reason for the revocation of the actual agreement from the two individuals for the marriage.

Sighing, James made a mental note to discuss the matter with her later—he wasn't lying when he said he was behind on Transfigurations. The only part of that which was barely true was that the reasoning of his Head duties to be the blame. In fact, his Head duties got in the way of very little because Lily Evans did not allow him to do much since failing his first appointed task miserably. Although he never vocally conceded that Lily Evans clearly was the better choice for Head Girl, in the back of the mind, every fibre of his being knew she was.

No matter how much James reasoned it was a fluke, his reasoning had always come up flawed.

As he turned a corner after entering the library he heard the mutterings of someone doing some spell work in the designated area. Since Fluky Flyers pulled a few too many misdirected spells which—somehow by some crazy incidence—escaped the protected area and wreaked havoc on the library—the result of which ended up in a closing down of the library for a week in third year—James had hardly seen anyone in that area. It had been fondly renamed the 'Bermuda Square' by Tom Jordan who was a pureblood, yet retained close relations with his brother who married a muggle.

Few students realized what the true shape should have been.

Peeking through the bookcase, he saw a flash of red and forced himself not to roll his eyes childishly. That was something Lily would do when seeing someone she disliked. It seemed she was working some sort of Transfigurations work herself—seeing as how there was an orange pillow on the table in front of her. After grumbling incessantly about it and flipping numerous pages, she straightened her shoulders and tried again only to end up with a purple rock.

James felt his mouth twitch into a smile. The work they had been given to do was to turn a stone into a purple stuffed bird of some sort.

Stepping out from behind the bookcase, James entered the Bermuda Square and sat down at the table, peering over at her text book casually while she fumed it out and yelled various—what James thought—obscenities at the purple rock. Rather colourful words like 'Orange Mashed Potato Head' were some such obscenities.

Laughing, he saw her whip around, furious red locks swirling with her. "Potter! Stop laughing! This is a useless skill anyway!" she fumed. It looked like her previous mood had been dispelled completely and she had either forgotten all about it or chosen to downright ignore it. Either way, it looked like she was not in the mood to be angry at him anymore—which suited him well.

James sighed. "Oh? And what does Lily Evans desire so desperately to be when she possibly grows up?"

Lily frowned at the comment but pursed her lips ever so before answering. "An auror; or a healer. I don't know yet. Maybe I shall wander the streets aimlessly bringing ducks to water," she said with her nose raised as high as she could and her arms folded.

Quirking an eyebrow, he smiled. "Two very different paths and a questionable third. However, I can tell you with my expansive knowledge of what is required in both fields that the ability to transfigure something is highly valued. On the flip side I don't think ducks much care for transfigurations."

Lily sat down at the table in defeat. "Wonderful way of destroying a young girls feathered dreams, don't you think, Old Man?"

"Sharing my _old_ wisdom is all," he returned evenly.

Lily sighed in frustration again. "Fine, then you transfigure whatever the heck it's supposed to be if you're so brilliant."

"A purple bird," he suggested.

"Yes, whatever you call the stupid thing."

Taking his wand out, James put his elbow on the table and successively rested his head on his wrist. Flicking his wand just so at the misshapen purple rock, it immediately turned into a purple creature—plumage, colour, species, stuffing and all.

"Oh yes, you're very smart at that aren't you?" she said, rolling her eyes sticking her tongue out at him.

James could only grin at the mock of a compliment. "Yes, yes I am, aren't I?"

"And so humble too." Lily sighed, petting the bird on its feathered, purple and so very fake head before writing down the results of a transfiguration homework assignment she did not do. "My, I wonder if Mrs Potter knows what she's gotten herself into, marrying a boy like you," she said absently while scribbling down more notes on how it was done. Although she would never be able to do it herself, he realized, she had managed to get by this time by goading him into doing it for her.

Clever, very clever.

However, that was not where his mind was at this moment. James had been nothing but courteous and pleasant to Alicia Rose, in fact, he surmised, Alicia Rose didn't even know this playful nature of his even ever existed. Alicia Rose was so perfect he never had any need to tease, taunt, ridicule, make fun of or make fun with her. True enough, they had never 'played' with each other like he might have with Sirius or any of the other Marauders—or anyone else for that matter.

They were almost barely acquaintances, really. Related by accident, it seemed. Their personalities didn't suit each other. Yet Alicia Rose would still be the perfect bride—in every detail. Something like that, he could not simply ignore.

"I wonder as well…" he said quietly.

It would have been far too quiet to hear in a normal setting, however they were in the library and noise seemed to be magnified tenfold when in here. The only notice Lily made of having heard this aside comment was that her quill stopped its fluid writing for a second before returning to finish the word it had blotted ink onto the middle of. When she finished, it was the only spot upon her perfect writing that was even a blemish. It was history, right then and there because it was proof that something was not right.

"Excellent. You've been a wonderful help, Potter, I guess geezers have their uses now and then aside from wasting both space and oxygen for the younger and fitter-for-survival generations."

James sighed indignantly. For about three months she had constantly called him something either relating to age or—what he presumed to be—her favourite animal and it gets irritating, yes, but there was no helping it. "Honestly, Evans, you can't think of something else to call me? I'm already getting married before graduation, I'd rather not feel like I'm having my life simply flash before my eyes."

Lily let out a laugh and her green eyes sparkled with her smile. Although it was physically and literally impossible and it defied the very laws of light, something about Lily always sparkled. Happiness just sprang off her and came off in tremendous waves like a calming tide at sunset spraying you with little droplets of water in the crossfire—except Lily was the ocean during monsoon season where those little droplets of water could very well be flying wreckage left in her wake.

"Oh? How else shall I remind you that your life _is_ vanishing before your eyes because you've skipped childhood and those damned rebellious teenage years?"

James made a face. "How about my name? You _do_ recall it don't you?"

Laughing once more, Lily put her quill away and capped her ink bottle, slapping her homework shut. "Then Mr Potter it is. I'll give you your way on this since it aggravates you so my little ducky."

"Aside from that, what's with you and ducks?"

Lily smiled. "Well, I am muggle-born you know. I know more than just failing Transfigurations and acing Potions."

How typical of her: an answer that didn't actually answer anything but cause more confusion.

Oh how James was tempted to ask further.

Oh how his curiosity burned at the edges to hear more of it.

But oh how his dignity couldn't handle it at the cost of feeling like it was being laughed at from behind a raised curtain to a room whose sole purpose was to make fun of him. If Lily was the president of her own club, surely it would have been something like 'The Make Fun of Potter Club,' or something equally horrific. Perhaps it would even be something akin to world domination.

James shivered.

Someone like her may very well succeed at that.

"Never ever make a club of your own."

This was Lily's turn to be confused. "Come again?" she returned flatly.

"Nothing. So what on earth is in the rest of your bag?" he asked, mentioning the bag that looked like it could cry at any moment and rip at the seams in protest and a futile attempt to go on strike or quit its job of carrying her books. There was a familiar flower stitched in on the front he was looking at. From experience he knew the words 'My name IS on it!' was on the other side.

"Divination stuff among other things."

"Divinations? You take Divinations?"

Well, that actually explained a lot. The Divinations teacher was downright insane. Horrifyingly accurate whenever she actually _did_ make any sort of prediction, but insane. Every genius comes with a few nuts, as they say. One day she made the prediction that someone's hair would change colour—right around the time she was _painting_ the Divinations room. A bucket of paint fell on that person's hair in the next fifteen minutes.

Several other odd occurrences happened after that.

"Yes. I take Muggle Studies as well. I can tell you don't."

"Who does?" he asked incredulously.

Indeed, Muggle Studies was just a class that most people took in order to earn easy marks. James never thought much of it—and his classes were predominantly decided by his parents on what he should or should not take—thus Muggle Studies was never a very important thing to learn on the agenda. Especially when James was able to conveniently pull his soon-to-be-bride into the fray commenting that he would have less time for Alicia if that was to happen.

That last statement was probably the strongest.

And the biggest lie.

Lily folded her arms. "I do," she returned rather stiffly. "I am taking every class under God's great and beautiful retina-killing sun."

"Retina?"

Lily sighed and shook her head. "Really, Potter, I'm starting to believe that I was wrong for calling you an Old Man when you apparently know nothing about anything. Anyway, thanks for doing my Transfigurations, you're a real keener on the subject so this will be my first non-failure in the class. McGonagall will be pleased—for once," she said triumphantly, gathering up her books and heading out of the bubble.

James felt somehow that something backfired on him or that he missed the boat on something important at getting back at her, seeing as how he had the vaguely familiar feeling that she had—completely, absolutely and undeniably—gotten the last laugh on that one.

As she swung her hips slightly while she walked, she flipped her hair out once and ran her hands through luscious red locks. As if his hands felt the irresistible need to mirror such an action, he was not surprised to find his hand in his hair when he stepped out of his daydream. Glancing about frantically, he dearly hoped that no one had witnessed him ogle someone other than the girl he would marry.

That would be the worst kind of a bad thing.

* * *

To My Reviewers:

SWEET MERCIFUL HEAVEN I'VE GOT A COMPUTER AGAIN! If, for some reason, you don't know why I haven't updated anything in forever, no, it's not because I've just decided to up and hate you all, it's because my computer broke and it took, believe it or not, this long to fix it. So, anyways, if you're still here, I still love you and your loyalty actually astounds me, if you're new to this story and my tragic tale of being reunited with my computer, I thank you for taking time to read or endure one or the other.

SparklingSilverStars: YES! Advertising the rest of my work one after another, to some degree, DOES WORK! I'm ecstatic you enjoyed Rain so much, I enjoyed writing it! I hope you continue to read and enjoy 'Your Choice of Flower,' that is, if I've not lost you to probably the rest of my audience who has thought I dropped off the planet.

Comments:

I didn't like the original version when I finished it. So, I left it alone and decided 'Well, whatever, just make up for it next time.' And then, lo and behold, my poor little computer blows up on me. And now, reunited with high-tech typewriter once again, I was able to turn it into something I can look at and say 'Eh, at least it's not 'worse' anymore.'

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid.

Beverage of Queens.


	5. The Dilemma of Choice

Chapter Five: The Dilemma of Choice

TAP! TAP! TAP!

James grumbled and moaned in his sleep. As far as he was concerned the Halloween Ball was not for at least another four hours and he intended to sleep quite fitly until then. At that point he would have to go and collect Lily Evans—who was his date—by absolutely sheer requirement as stated per the ridiculously old 'Rules of Code and Conduct for Students Attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'—for that dance.

It was a little more than just frustrating.

It was like having a train-wreck driven into the core of your soul through your temple.

Over and over again.

Of course, that was figuratively speaking since he would appear with Lily Evans, but end up leaving with Alicia Rose on his arm. Alicia Rose, in turn, would arrive with Sean Patil and yet leave with James. It was their plan and they had next to no qualms about it. They would have entirely avoided the situation if Lily had simply decided to overlook that one rule—in the same manner she outright ignored everything else—that was, oddly enough, always followed.

Then again, not so odd. As Head Boy he had to be, in the same way that explosive plaster sticks to it's target, that target in order to fraternize with Lily. It was just his misfortune that Lily was the plaster sticking to him—not so much a ticking time bomb as a ever-present threat and knife in the temple.

James was not blind to it all, however. Lily was smart enough—a point he had to eventually concede in light of recent events and the conclusion of less recent meetings—to manage a way out of the code of conduct. It was no secret that Remus, of all people, asked Lily to the very Ball he had to now attend with her. Lily, in turn, always acted… less Lily around Remus and he wished the best for both of them, hoping it would, in turn, make him turn his eyes to Alicia rather than to Remus in the venomous desire to stab one of his best friends with the overstatement of a pointy object.

In the end McGonagall insisted that they take each other—so they could work better. Lily couldn't have agreed more, and that much was evident in her eyes yet was overshadowed completely by her lack of attentiveness that day. That day, it seemed, Lily had something on her mind.

In fact, that day was _today_.

TAP! TAP! TAP!

Turning over on his side, he plopped his pillow over his head, ignoring the rude awakening altogether. He had a clear guess of who it might be—chances were he would be right. The chances he would get it wrong were like getting struck by lightning several hundred times and surviving to a ripe old age.

Since meeting Lily, James' direst dream was to do just that.

Finally, the window swung wide open just as James was back on the verge of falling back to sleep and ignoring the annoyance altogether. His head snapped up underneath the pillow and it fell off his head, revealing a head of hair that—honestly—looked no better than it usually did. In the case of bed-head, James Potter's hair was such locks that laughed—nay—cackled insanely in the face of it. Indeed, the irony of always having ever terribly messy hair was that it eliminated bed-head in a snap.

In his blurred—yet focusing—line of vision, he saw quite the vision.

Lily Evans, dressed as a witch.

The choice wasn't clear whether he should be staring at her in awe or shock right at that moment.

"Honestly, Evans, you'd think a _witch_ would try dressing up as something else on Halloween?" he said, grumbling after being rudely awoken, conservatively looking away from her like the good little conservative boy he was raised to be. How she managed to get into his room was no longer a mystery once he saw clear evidence. For the past four weeks Lily had taken the liberty of stealing his broom and flying up to his window in order to wake him up in the rudest manner possible.

Somehow it always involved at least some amount of ice and water.

Judging by the large grin she greeted him with every time he woke up, he would wager everything he had in Gringott's and then some that she very much enjoyed it.

Lily sighed, shaking her head, allowing the large pointed hat to unbelievably not shake with her. It was an atypical witch's outfit—yet James would have to admit that if he weren't very much engaged he would have to jump out of bed and snog the girl senseless right there. To say that Lily Evans was attractive in that outfit was far from the truth. So very far. So unbelievably, achingly far.

Sighing, Lily shook her head and yanked the covers off James. After the first encounter with Lily's rude awakenings, James had properly reminded himself to always wear a shirt to bed. It was not so much _for_ Lily as it was _because of_ Lily. Upon seeing how very built he was, she had then suggested whole-heartedly that he allow her to take pictures so that she could sell them to 'Other significant parties whom the subject is not engaged to at present' in order to 'Secure a future of wealth and general prosperity.'

Although he did not admit it nor shall ever utter it he didn't ask why her itinerary did not also include the 'Pursuit of Happiness by World Domination.'

"Tsk, tsk. Come on, get up, you. The Halloween Ball will start in an hour."

James' shoulders slumped and he glanced at the clock. It read three 'o clock. The Halloween Ball was at seven. He looked back at Lily, who was waiting, hands on her hips—still wearing that witch outfit—an outfit that should be banned from Lily Evans if only for James' sake.

Or perhaps he should be blinded for life to never see her wear that ever again.

Wait.

Something didn't add up quite right.

"Are you mad, woman? The ball is in four hours—seeing how it's only three, and you're all decked out ready to cause some mayhem already."

This was where a large grin split across her face—which he noticed was dusted off in a touch of light makeup—something else that should be banned from Lily Evans. In fact, all jewellery, makeup, accessories or any beautifying thing should simply be banned from Lily Evans. It made her much too pretty—much too irresistible.

Much too distracting from a certain individual whom he would marry in the next couple months.

Lily pursed her lips slightly. This was a telltale sign that she had recently done something fairly mischievous. This was no surprise to James, yet the outcome was what he braced himself for. Whenever this girl wanted, she could sink the world. How do you sink a world, pray tell? James didn't know, but he would bet his life she could do it.

"Well, you see, once upon a time—" Worse was when she started with 'once upon a time.' In James' mind these were the worst beginnings because they tended to end up as 'and messed poor James up so much that he couldn't see straight for weeks—the end.' "—a wonderful and beautiful Head Girl Lily Evans entered a restricted room and stunned a clock and it confounded James so much that he slept nearly the entire day believing it was only three o' clock. Haven't you noticed that it has read exactly three o' clock for the past, say, four hours?"

James blinked and he suddenly lunged at her while she stepped nimbly away. "You daft girl! What the hell is the matter with you?"

Lily laughed and let herself out, closing the door behind her. Only seconds later she opened the door once again, strode in, grabbed his broom and walked back out. "Since my intrusion you now have a mere twenty minutes. Hurry up won't you, darling? Can't be late for our recital now, can we?"

"Twenty minutes!?" he cried. "You said there's an hour!" he shrieked, jabbing an accusing finger at her.

Lily looked away. "Yes, well, time has a funny way of sneaking up on you like that. One day you're young, bright and innocent like me, the next day you're as old and rotten as month old bread. Ah… you're growing on me, Potter, you really are. Such wise, and ancient wisdom I have you to thank for. Ta," she before closing the door to his room.

James just stared at her and pointed at the door as if she were still standing there, needing an outlet for all his frustration. From the other side of the door he could hear her laughing at the cost of his pride and another shred of his dignity. Sighing, he folded his arms, waiting a while longer to diffuse any remaining frustration with her before getting dressed. Too many awkward situations arose when he was around Lily—far too many for his liking.

After getting ready—having dressed as a prince opposite to Alicia Rose—who was quite obviously dressing as a princess—James walked out and looked around. Lily was sitting on the couch, in front of the fire, reading a book. It was not a textbook—otherwise he would have pointed it out and have made fun of her for it by now. Lily had no need for textbooks, she remembered everything a teacher should ever utter in class. No, it was an ordinary book. Lily Evans, he realized, tended to take off the plastic covers of any books she might have—thus leaving the only trace of what the book even was on the spine.

It was a peculiar habit, but everything about her was peculiar right down to the way she would consistently put the shampoo in a different spot around the bathtub—facing out—depending on the day. James was able to deduce it to be a Saturday in his mad rush to get ready once only to go back to sleep and find out he skipped classes on a Friday.

No comment was made on how closely he actually watched such peculiarities.

As he stood there staring, he felt the familiar quickening of his pulse and the shortness of his breath. Her hat was set aside and her ravishing red hair—which he swore she dyed for it was far too red to be natural—glistened ever so and gazing at it made his face flush considerably redder. It was not often he caught himself staring at her, and yet he couldn't help it. Every time he did, he conveniently ignored the fact that he didn't stop whenever he noticed either.

This was a rare occasion though; the girl whose energy reserves could power all of Britain for the next twenty years was silent, calm, quiet and reading in front of a fire that should also be banned from the presence of Lily Evans. This sight alarmed him and yet the calmness of it all made his heart beat just a little faster—pounding like drums in an empty hall.

James imagined that he would have stood there for all of ever if it were not for a pesky dust particle having swept into his eye, causing it to water slightly. This, of course, he heralded with a noise.

Lily looked up at him and smiled, snapping her book shut and setting it aside. Picking up her hat, she set it back upon her head and strode up to him. Smiling a smile that was dotted with red lipstick—something that should be banned from her lips—Lily wagged her eyebrows at him seductively. Well, ok, it wasn't seductive in the slightest to anyone else who might have looked at her.

"Well, well, what a marvellous escort you make. You look charming, Potter; no word of a lie."

James sighed in irritation, looking away from her very exposed neckline. "All that ever comes out of your mouth are lies, Miss Evans. Lying Lily Evans, that's what you are. Come on then, let's go, the sooner I am dancing with Rose the sooner I'll be in a better mood."

Lily didn't say anything to this but simply followed behind him, her long black dress hovering less than an inch off the ground; the long black dress that was cut on one side to expose the entirety of her left leg up to nearly her waist—held together by a few intentional strings around her hips. It probably wasn't that high but James wasn't prepared to look down there—he was afraid it would be higher for he saw more string run up the side. He was afraid his nerves might become shot and his face would permanently discolour if he did so.

Upon arriving at the Great Hall, James turned and sighed. "I suppose we should enter together," he said dejectedly, feeling like this was her win all the way. There was something about her smile earlier though that didn't actually relay that she was pleased by the victory over him. It wasn't uncommon, however, the score when it came to Lily vs. James always somehow ended up Lily James.

Lily slapped his hand away hard enough to move it but not enough to bruise; a look as cold as ice on her face. "Even liars have their pride, Potter," she said stiffly as she pushed the door open and walked through first. The stiff look evaporated into the most carefree smile in the world as soon as she entered the Hall and—he knew—she could feel eyes settling upon her.

James blinked; his hand still where she slapped it away to. Not once in his life would he ever have imagined that voice or that look to ever come from the charming Lily Evans who talked in idiocy and circles and… and… and ducks.

Left staring at her back and thinking seriously upon her words and recent actions, he wondered what about that set her off. Even as the prefects were rushing their Queen Bee—for she was truly the one who did all the work—James was a figurehead, he saw that now—there was no trace of the incident even shadowed on her face. The incident might as well have never occurred.

When he finally entered the Hall, James had stood away from Lily—who was chatting it up with McGonagall as only she could. The unmistakable feeling of guilt had washed over him and he felt like it would effectively ruin his night. Although he wasn't certain what he felt guilty.

Catching the gaze of Alicia, he waved and smiled at her as only he could. Returning his wave, she smiled to acknowledge him momentarily before getting up, saying a few words to Sean Patil and heading over his way. Although they didn't arrive together in the most obvious fashion, they still did arrive at the ball together. His duty to Lily was done and now he should look to his duty to his fiancée.

It wasn't until his eyes passed over to Lily again did he not notice Alicia standing in front of him, hesitating only a fraction of a moment before taking his hands. The contact pulled James out of his reverie and he looked at his porcelain doll—as porcelain and as beautifully made as ever. Nodding a thanks towards Sean Patil for taking care of her up until now, he turned his attention fully on Alicia who was currently looking concerned as only she could.

"What's the matter, James?"

James just smiled. "Nothing, Alicia, don't worry about it. I have to go make a speech with Evans and I'll be yours the rest of the night." Although it was not exactly a lie, James felt the guilt compound over his head like a weight had been attached to the top of his head. How he didn't stumble or fall under the pressure was unknown to him.

"Did you two… have a disagreement?" she asked cautiously, her voice was laced with concern and this was also something that James did not pick up on. "You… don't often call her Evans if you're on good terms with her."

James couldn't help but wonder what 'bad terms' would mean when concerning Lily.

It was something he didn't want to think about.

Sighing, James shook his head. "Don't fret, Alicia, it doesn't concern you. There's nothing to worry about, Lily and I are the best of—"

"Potter, get your sorry arse up here before I spell it over!" came a menacing voice reverberating throughout the hall. All at once laughter rose up in the hall and James felt the weight break as if someone had just taken a hammer and chisel to it—making it split into pieces all around him.

"—colleagues," he finished, revising the original edition at the last second. When he turned to look at her she simply flipped her hair out magnanimously and continued to address the crowd in general, making pointed and obvious undertones all pertaining to that he should start moving towards the front of the stage.

When James glanced over at McGonagall, he could see her rubbing her temples in frustration. It seemed that even she couldn't cage a wild bird like Lily. The day they made a leash for a hurricane was the day that Lily Evans would bow to someone else's authority and will.

Alicia hesitated only a moment before smiling. "Your esteemed partner is calling for you it seems."

James sighed and made a wordless apology to Alicia before trudging up towards the stage, finally placing himself beside her, firmly staring at the back of the room ahead of him—hoping a draft wouldn't blow the scent of her perfume his way on the off-chance.

"Ah, Mr Potter, you've decided to join us at last, have you? Well, Your Highness, we are all absolutely _graced_ with your presence and _majesty_. Pray tell, has our liege lord anything to say towards the subjects of his royal lateness?"

James grit his teeth.

Don't look at her.

Don't look at her.

Don't look at her.

Sweet Merlin, boy, don't look at her or it's all over!

"Just an apology in its simplest, purest form. As you were, Miss Evans." The crowd laughed at this display, thinking it was all organized. To some degree he didn't doubt it wasn't. If things went wrong in his life it was either Lily's fault or Lily's unintentional fault.

Lily merely smiled at him like she usually did, as if all was well between them. "Oh, I am _most_ honoured. Well, peasant, peons, subjects, dukes, suzerains and whatever else out there, I present ourselves to you in our first, official, public appearance to you all. I am, as you may well know—I know how fast gossip travels exactly, Miss Greenwood—your Head Girl this year, Lily Evans." There was a loud round of applause for her and even a few whistles and catcalls as Lily did not curtsey but _bow_ to the general public in front of her with the spotlight on her. "To my side over here is King of the Clock, James Potter."

James grit his teeth harder, the smile on his face now completely that of a perfect mask of stoicism. As a young child, James was taught this smile. He was not only taught the form and technique of the 'purely public' smile but its uses, its failings and how not to break it. Right now he could feel the muscles in his face breaking from the strain of it all.

When he chanced a glance at Lily, he saw that her eyes were bewitched to be a very bloodshot red rather than the usual pristine green. Changing appearance like that couldn't have been easy—even for a skilled witch like herself.

The rest of the announcement went on in relatively uneventful manner. James was only relieved when the lights dimmed for the first dance as he mechanically took Lily's hand and led her down to the dance floor. At first he had reached out gingerly for her hand, afraid she would slap it away again, but after no reaction he finally touched it and eventually took it.

At first his hand rested on the bare skin and probably strap of undergarments upon her hip until he pulled his hand away as if her skin were acid and switched positions, trying hard to contain his blush. When he chanced a glance at Lily he saw a smile tug at the corner of her lips through the cold exterior.

As the music played, he led out into the first step of the familiar two-step and was surprised she moved with catlike grace alongside him, matching his steps perfectly as they spun around the dance floor at a quicker pace. If James were dancing any slower he would have noticed how irregularly his heart was beating compared to a ticking clock than the steps of the dance.

It wasn't until the rest of the student populace joined in and forced them to slow their pace for everyone else did he notice Sirius pointing at them as he talked to Alicia. Alicia was looking their was, smiling the slight smile of a lady as always but he caught the quiver of her lips even as Sirius stopped talking. James' eyes widened at that and all at once their dancing came to a stop. When he turned back to look at Lily, her face was empty of any glib retort or walking-on-the-belt-line that might be waiting on her lips the second his eyes were hers again.

To him it felt like Lily Evans had recently claimed ownership over his eyes. The absence of a smile on those ruby red lips made his heart jump in his chest, even as they held positions. James hoped that she didn't know just how quick his pulse was going because it felt like it could start felting wool if it got any quicker.

Even as he stared into her equally ruby red eyes, he felt his will dissolve as any thought of Alicia fled his mind. It shouldn't have been this way.

How could he be so fickle?

How could he be so utterly blind?

How could he honestly not notice how his head moved closer to hers of it's on volition until their foreheads touched each other?

How could he not be tantalized by her breath coming out in long, even, warm breezes onto his skin?

How could he be this close to Lily when his fiancée was staring at him so intently?

"James…" was the only word that those ruby lips spoke and yet it felt like a spell over him. James felt his breath shorten every time it passed through his lungs. The feel of his heart beating madly against his chest and against his lungs in near perfect harmony. "James, even liars have their pride." she said again, this time solid words, not a whisper.

Pulled out of his reverie, James pulled away from Lily and found he was breathing hard, as if he had just run a marathon. At a distance it looked like they had just shared a moment between them. Up close you could probably see more evidence of that fact.

James looked over at Alicia who was still watching him, almost enquiringly, a forlorn look upon her face as her left hand covered her engagement ring from view.

Alicia Rose was his fiancée. In that little exchange with Lily he saw that he had unwittingly hurt her—that much was obvious. Alicia deserved his loyalty, his respect, his love and his devotion. Not in any circumstance or any world did she deserve to see her fiancé look at someone else. Alicia Rose was the perfect lady—the right choice, the perfect choice. There were no dead ends or wrong turns with Alicia—everything was linear, perfect, as it should be.

Looking again at Lily, who was still standing there, wearing the same cold look mixed in with something else, something new he couldn't define, he felt his pulse stop dead. In all her awful beauty and atypical personality Lily was the very definition of a bird with nothing but the air to guide it to its next destination. Light didn't capture Lily, Lily captured light—just like a black hole—only it was apparent that the light didn't travel much further than Lily.

James turned back from her to Lily and over again.

It was inconceivable.

It was hopeless.

It was choice.

It was love.

It was true.

* * *

To My Reviewers:

I feel like this story is reaching it's middle. It's telling me it is going the right way and can properly be finished soon. It makes me happy because I often plan a certain amount of chapters and the story fails me and decides to take longer to finish. Rain was one such story that did that to me. I was like "Okay, I'll finish in the next chapter" for at least like ten chapters. Anyway, you're all so amazing and I just want to tell you guys that! If you keep reading my stories I swear I'll keep reading them unless my computer blows up again or I am deported out of Canada to a place with no internet.

And, of course, thank you all for your wonderful reviewing, it's like that whiff of fresh air in a stuffy room full of mouldy winter.

Queen of the Faeries: Belize? Well, I'll take in any fact about the best orange juice in the world. Thanks for that!

Comments:

I didn't enjoy reading this as much as I thought I would. I, of course, wrote it before my computer was broken so I can't really say what I was thinking when I wrote it. Ah well.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	6. Delicate Flower

Chapter Six: Delicate Flower

Alicia was everything he needed in life. It was his duty—his fate—to marry her. Even if she wasn't the one to send his heart running miles a minute at least she didn't talk about ducks all the time and try to get him just as wet as one.

No, of course she wouldn't, only Lily could pull off talking about ducks with such natural… natural… Lily-ness that it was unbelievably endearing. Not that she was endearing in any way, shape or plausible form.

When it came to endearment Alicia was definitely the better candidate of the two. There was not a moment in his life where he belittled her for anything. In fact he very much admired her for her calm and composed nature all the time. Sure it was a little more boring compared to Lily, but at least it was at a speed he could follow.

Unlike his pulse that tried to break dash records whenever she came near him.

James sighed, staring out his window. Lily hadn't returned his broom since the Ball nearly a week ago and he hadn't talked to her since. Not surprisingly enough he hadn't talked to Alicia since the dance either. In the back of his mind he couldn't help but think how helpless a man was in the face of female misery and dilemma. They were either always too hot, or too cold, or too sick, or too something else that hindered a proper relationship with the rest of the world which included the male species.

No wonder Sirius didn't want a girlfriend.

How he left the dance that night was all a blur to him. Lily had been the first to move away from him, that he could be certain of. When he looked over to Alicia he saw that she was gone as well. The only person sitting at the table was Sirius who gave him a 'tsk, tsk' sort of motion and shook his head. In that one instant he knew that Sirius had—as if he had a sixth sense for it—recognized James' turmoil between the two.

James couldn't even begin to say how humiliating _that_ was—knowing it was Sirius.

After calling in sick for the day, simply unable to deal with everything that occurred on a Friday—more so because he had Head Boy obligations on Fridays—than actually feeling sick, James had simply sat beside his bedroom window, staring out the window at how cold it had gotten outside. October was snappish but November was downright chilly.

As he watched the leaves he couldn't help but try to pinpoint the exact point in time that he realized that he had a choice. Well, in the end, that was fairly easy. It was just last week when he danced with Lily and nearly kissed her of his traitorous body's own accord. Not only had it shocked him but it had also stunned something of a dull common sense of avoidance into Lily. It was a little heart-breaking, he would admit, to see her not use words he never thought he'd ever miss like 'silly' and even 'duck,' let alone ever dare to think he would miss them together. It had been nothing but stiff formalities between them on their offhand meet in the hallways or in meetings.

Naturally this didn't stop him from trying to catch her attention.

Of course, if he wanted to go to the root of it all, he'd probably have to say that he was interested in the weird girl since he met her. The way she spoke, the way she made fun of him, and even the way she acted at times made him feel like he was missing some great hole in his life that no one ever told him about until she did. It was almost like she had taken his blindfold off and said 'You've a hole in you, you know, might want to get that fixed before it sucks in light.'

Somehow, he never thought he would be given a choice like this.

All his life he had always been told what he would do, what job he would aspire to, the classes he would take, the people he would associate with, even the girl he was going to marry. In a way, it made James feel so unbearably lazy—lazy and pathetic. When Lily came right up and said flat-out to his face something akin to 'You're missing something from life' in that even flow of her speech that could be as clear as a bell to understand or as riddled as the Aztec.

Unwittingly, he had drawn closer to her to get closer to _that_. To get closer to the thing he was missing in his life—the thing he saw she was so rich of. Whatever it was he wanted it and in the crossfire of that he ended up falling into a hole he jumped right into without really realizing what it was.

Perhaps that was why so many young couples got divorced. They jump in a hole they don't particularly understand and can't find a way back up so they just dig deeper or try to dig a tunnel to the surface—a long tunnel of pain and recovery until the evidence of that hole is buried. It's not until they look at the odd-shaped patch of grass where a hole once was that they remember that something that led to something so much deeper used to be there.

Getting up, he left his room and stopped dead in his tracks. Lily was reading in front of the fire on the couch with a blanket printed with giant yellow happy faces wrapped around her. The longer he stared at her the more he felt the guilt pile up because he knew she was angry at him. Lily Evans was the type to flirt with the devil himself rather than be afraid of someone or avoid anyone for any small reason.

James himself flirted constantly with indecision these days himself, he thought ruefully.

Sighing quietly, he sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

"I… I want things to go back to normal. The way they were. Plus you have my broom," he added, hoping that she would take that and use it because he knew she could. He didn't know how she would, his mind wasn't that lunatic, but he knew she could if she wanted. This girl could shoot the moon and make it cry, bleed, sing or dance for her if she wanted it to.

Lily turned a page of her book, not giving him her full attention. "Why should I?" she asked bluntly.

James winced. Lily couldn't have cut deeper if she had sliced his head off. "Well… because… because… I… I realize that I really like you as a person. What will it take?"

Lily looked like she had stopped reading for her eyes stopped moving fluidly across the page. Her head inclined only a fragment and she seemed to think it over. "An apology. A true, heartfelt, and sincerely contrite… apology."

There was an insanely thick moment of silence a chainsaw would get stuck in. It pressed in all around James but offered one way out to freedom, fresh air and a less frightening atmosphere. A small disobedient part of him told him that he had nothing to apologize for while the rest of him would jump off a bridge into acid to get things settled straight. Hell, James would even do something horrific like cutting off his own head or a less extreme like shaving said head to have things go back to normal.

James sighed, crestfallen. The tone of her voice was proof enough that she was either hurt, deeply offended or both. "Alright I… I…" Even as he started talking he realized that his mouth refused to apologize to her. "I would like to know just what I should be apologizing for so it doesn't happen again," he said smoothly—not realizing how actually brilliant that answer was until he thought about it later.

Frowning, Lily turned her green eyes to stare him straight on. It felt like weights had been added to his shoulders and he had the immeasurable desire to run his hands through his hair like there was no tomorrow. "You called me a liar, James Potter. Don't remember?" she asked pointedly.

It was this comment that James realized she was trying to make him dig his grave even further. The thing about Lily Evans was that you were good in her books until you left her good books never to return. If James got things right with Lily he was certain that this should be recorded into history books.

Although his reason and understanding for her being so offended at being called one was superiorly short of the mark, James didn't want to question it—telling himself he would find out about it later. Many times he had been called a liar for various reasons and occasions, but it never really affected him for he did not care much for verbal abuse. Some say that its ignorance, others attribute it to that James Potter doesn't honestly care about anything.

In all honesty, James could probably testify this all to be true allegations, but not today.

Today he cared about something.

"Then… I see. Ah… I'm… I'm sorry. Merlin, I'm no good at apologies, I'm sorry I called you a liar, Lily, I didn't know it would set you off as much as it did," he managed to blurt out all in one fell breath.

Lily searched him with her piercing gaze in silent agonizing minutes that felt like they could span months or even years before James would get a proper acceptance or outright refusal of his apology. Even as he sweated bullets right then and there he couldn't help but wonder what he would do after this?

There was still Alicia he had to make amends to.

Lily smiled.

James' heart leapt for joy and he had to remind himself to breathe again.

Tucking hair back behind her ear, she closed the book. "Thank you, James. I accept it. As per your punishment…" Lily turned, fiddling around with something in her pocket until she pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. "_Aguamenti!_"

A jet of water spurted from her wand into James' face, soaking him to the skin. It wasn't until the jet stopped pouring out onto him and he was fully drenched did he blink or even belatedly think to brace himself for something like this. It was childish, it was inconceivable and it was so utterly _Lily_ that James couldn't help but feel the familiar frustration rise up.

Merely smiling, Lily tucked her wand away. "I like _my_ ducks wet I'll have you know, Mr Potter."

James blinked once more.

"Are you mad woman!? You just hosed me down with the blunt end of your wand!" he screamed, feeling the pent up frustration of a week finally finding an outlet.

"Mad? My, why would I be mad at you? I'm not hungry though there's a fire… so I might as well take you to water."

James didn't want to even know what she meant by that.

"You're insufferable," he said, glaring at her.

Lily merely smiled. "And this poor little duck in front of me is in love! How absolutely charming!"

James' eyes widened like saucers. If it was this obvious to himself, it must've been painfully clear to the rest of the world. It was that or Sirius spilled the beans on his probably very accurate conclusions regarding James and his prospective female interest—which unbelievably was not one person anymore. Unfortunately that political art of deny, deny, deny that his parents so clearly expressed all the time was not passed down onto him.

Getting up, Lily walked over to him and laid a hand over his shoulder. "James, I appreciate your feelings, but, alas, I have room in my heart only for birds of a feathered variety, although you do make a good substitute I'll admit that much my featherless friend."

Inexplicably, James felt his mouth slowly drop open. As Lily flipped her hair and walked away towards the portrait hole, James rose to his feet and pointed after her savagely. "I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU!"

Lily waved it off. "Oh, James, I know you're in love with me, you don't have to deny your feelings any more you silly boy," she said errantly as she stepped outside the portrait hole and out of sight.

It wasn't until her fire red hair was not as fresh in his mind as it was five seconds ago that he gritted his teeth in frustration. One way or another, things were back to normal and James wasn't sure if he lost more dignity in the last five minutes than he had in all his life combined. If there was ever a person to tear it away from you and shred it down to dust so fine you could make bombs out of it, it was none other than Lily Evans.

James sat there, fuming over everything and anything Lily for a few minutes before he sighed and decided he should stop avoiding Alicia like Lily had been avoiding him. There was only one place that Alicia Rose would go to on a boring Saturday morning without James in tow and that would probably be somewhere high. Alicia loved high places—so much so that if it were possible she would prefer to be buried in the clouds in a casket upon suspended brooms.

Making his way to the astronomy tower, he found himself accosted along the hallways as someone threw an arm around his neck and pulled him off to the side. In mid-protest he caught a glimpse of who it was and stopped struggling, knowing the effort was wasted.

Sirius eventually let go of James and James sighed. "What do you want?" he asked rather miserably. Thinking about patching things up with his fiancée made him gloomier than he wanted to be, he realized. The look that was on Alicia's face and thereafter was one that James would rather passively avoid and ignore the rest of his life than actually contend and deal with for ten minutes.

"To chat. Namely with you, my two-timing friend," he said casually with a grin that James had the impossibly irresistible urge to wipe off by violent means. Despite the irritation that James felt towards Sirius at this moment, he knew that he couldn't hide anything from Sirius and that it would be better to confide in Sirius willingly rather than have him nose it out on his own.

That often didn't turn out for the best.

"So what's on your mind, Prongs? The lovely Lily Evans or the ravishing Rose by name of Alicia?" he asked almost nonchalantly. There was a nonchalant air about Sirius every time he cared about something which was the only definite way to tell if Sirius actually cared. In class he would look like he was paying attention only to copy notes off someone later in order to pass the upcoming test he never studied for.

James sighed. "I've fallen badly for Evans—and don't call Alicia ravishing like that, it really creeps me out."

Sirius merely grinned. "Have you talked to Remus recently? It seems that you're not the only one with their eyes on that wild card. Not only that but you've already got one. By one I mean Alicia of course," he clarified, looking away.

James blinked. Unsurprisingly, this comment made him feel immense guilt—as if it was wrong that his heart circulated enough blood in a minute upon seeing her to power a small dam to light up a small city. James, honestly, hadn't seen Remus in a while and hadn't talked to him in much more. Then again, he thought that Remus liked Emily Richardson, not Lily Evans.

Emily was the level-headed and kind and sincere and Remus'-type-of-girl half of the Richardson twin duo. The only way that anyone could tell either Evelyn or Emily apart was that Evelyn was sorted into Ravenclaw while Emily was a Gryffindor.

"Doesn't he like Emily Richardson?" James asked, trying to avoid the question rather skilfully.

Sirius gave a long 'hmm' and placed his hand upon his chin in thought. Clearly, Sirius had not factored in this argument in the long run. It was here that James saw an opening upon his friend's unwelcome prying into his life.

"He certainly does," he admitted after a longer than necessary pause. "It seems you've both been stung by a bee and don't know when to just ignore it. Listen, James, normally I wouldn't bother with your trivial love life when I have my own hopeless one to contend with, but I don't want you to hurt either Alicia or Lily. It's a dangerous path you're treading, mate."

James blinked, looking away from him. "It's not something I can help, Sirius. It's… every time I see her I go nuts, right here," he said, placing a hand over his heart. "Every time it happens my head tells me I'm imagining it but every time I listen to my heart all I can hear is: Lily, Lily, Lily. Do you not think it doesn't drive me insane?"

Sirius looked at him with a serene, almost happy look on his face. Sirius started to walk towards him. "I envy you, Mr Potter, to find yourself so knee-deep in love you cannot escape, I absolutely envy you," he said, walking away from James towards the library.

James blinked and turned around. "What are you talking about?"

Sirius didn't turn around. "Just don't do anything I wouldn't do, mate! And make sure she gets a rock as large as the moon!"

Although he was quite certain something the size of an airplane flew over his head without a noise, James couldn't quite tell what. There were always these inescapable gaping holes that James just somehow couldn't fill when talking to certain people. People like Sirius and Lily were two such examples.

Standing there for a moment, James turned to look outside the window at the clear sky thinking how he would never be free as a bird from all this. To run away from both Alicia and Lily and every single turmoil in his life right now. It was a selfish wish, he knew, when he was so fortunate, but he just couldn't stand being put between such a rock like Lily and a wall like Alicia.

It was the first time that James ever thought about it, but he suddenly realized that he wanted to decide what would happen in his life on his own. From the day he was born his life was chosen for him—set and carefully planned out by his parents. This was all James knew and so he didn't object and he couldn't help but think it was strange when everyone didn't know what they were doing past graduation.

James would work for the Ministry, a political position like his father and mother. It would be easy to attain the job because of the connections he had through his father alone. What department he would be in would be decided depending on his aptitudes for different kinds of paper pushing. Despite knowing this would be where he ended up, James couldn't help but think about the very many other roles that people had to fill out in the world.

It had come to a point where his life had gotten boring. Even with Alicia Rose he had gotten bored. When he first met her he was only a boy and thought that the whole world was waiting out there for him and was thus excited to be meeting the girl he would one day marry. At that age he didn't know any better. At this age, he still didn't know any better up until two or three months ago. It wasn't until he became the Quidditch captain did he start to consider his future going other paths.

It wasn't until he met Lily that he didn't start thinking about marrying her instead of Alicia Rose.

Alicia was far too perfect and far too mild-mannered for him. She never complained and she never fussed. For the most part, Alicia, other than whom she would marry, still had her life ahead of her. It was empty pages left for her to write in and scribble in and erase and cross out as she liked. James' book had been taken by his parents and he never knew about its existence until it presented itself to him in such an inopportune yet opportune moment.

Despite not wanting to admit it, Lily had changed his entire life in just a few short months probably without meaning to very much. Whenever he looked at her with her friends or with anyone else, she was just the same—they just handled her better than he did. They thought she was 'lively' or 'cute' or 'cheerful.' James had then realized he never thought of her as anything other than 'Irritating Lily Evans.'

Now he thought of her as something more.

Something that reeked of change in his stagnant life.

And it was a beautiful, fresh smell.

"James, I had heard from Evans you would be looking for me. She seemed happier today than she had the last few weeks. Your doing, I wonder?"

James spun around to see Alicia. Smiling, he walked up to her and took her hands in his. "Alicia, aside from that… I have… rather sad news… for us both."

Alicia went from a calm stoic to a face on the verge of tears. "James, please don't tell me you want to end it," she choked out in as even a tone as possible even though her eyes welled up with tears. "I have thought about saying this every day since I met you, but I was always told that a boy should be the first one to say it. I have been waiting all my life to say it and… now it seems I've waited too long. James, I love you… please, don't tell me you want this to end!" she cried.

James' eyes widened. Not once had he ever thought that Alicia had actually loved him. He had always thought it was something she had no choice in as well—that it was just one aspect of her life that she was following her parents' wishes on. It was so shocking that he simply stood there, with his stupid smile on, holding her hands as she cried. If an outsider had happened by the couple they would have imagined that it was James' fault—partially which it was that Alicia was now crying as she was. It was no surprise he couldn't help but feel like it was a horrible picture he was painting right now.

"Alicia…"

Even as she let go of his hands and grabbed onto his shirt, crying on him, James couldn't help but feel that it was fate that was tugging on him, telling him that it wouldn't let him go no matter what—that the plan was too perfect for him to realize he wanted out of it. It was already almost over, Christmas holidays were in a month and when he got back it would be a short jump to spring.

Vows would be said and his fate would be ultimately sealed.

Without wanting to, without needing to—with wanting to push her away and go find Lily as he did so, James put his arms around Alicia and hugged her gently.

"Its okay, Alicia, it's nothing like that. The wedding has just… been delayed until after graduation. I got the letter from my parents this morning. The preparations, it seems, aren't quite ready yet for some reason."

In the back of his mind he silently fretted about how he was going to make that happen.

Alicia lifted her head up to look at him. Almost at once, as if she realized what she was doing and how unprofessional it was, she jumped away from him. "Oh! I see. Well… I'm just jumping to conclusions then, aren't I? That is rather sad news for us both. I'm so sorry, James, forgive me. I had thought you had decided to break the marriage in order to… be with Lily."

James smiled and wiped a tear away from her face. "I'd never do something like that, Alicia. I would only do something like that if it made _you_ truly happy. You'll be my wife soon, and you won't have to worry about anyone stealing me away."

It was a flat out lie and James had threatened his heart a very traumatic surgery if it said otherwise at this particular moment—which it was doing so at a speed of a thousand miles a minute in the fear that he was going to be found out for his little white lie.

The thing about white lies, however, was that they were carnivorous little demons that tended to eat and grow and become vicious and a little uglier and a little less harmless. Little white lies tended to become gigantic, ugly black ones.

It was the big ugly black ones that tended to be harmless in that no one often believed them.

* * *

To My Reviewers:

I swear I was going to post this up yesterday but FF rejected me. So I came back today, gave it some roses and chocolates and it let me post this up. Of course, once again, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to review. I know at least all of you won't reject me. :P

Comments:

My poor, poor Alicia. I've made her a bubblehead. TT I may never forgive myself.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

sneeuQ fo egareveB


	7. Caught

Chapter Seven: Caught

James sat by the window, watching Alicia paint flowers.

All in all, he never knew that Alicia painted and he was sure he would've been quite happy during the entirety of his life to never know that she even had an interest. It was one of those facts about someone you didn't really ever care about unless they were your best friends. Alicia was his fiancée, so just what did that make her exactly as a friend?

The air was chilly and James wore his coat, leaning against the tree casually. Since apologizing to Lily and lying to Alicia he hadn't spent any time at all with Lily. Since then he had tried to think of nothing but Alicia—to try and accept his fate that this was where it would lead him—that this dead end was all he could ever hope to aspire to in life. Alicia was more than just a ball and chain; she was a collar; she was a leash; she was a cage. Even as he watched her paint—looking lovelier than ever and prettier than peaches, he couldn't help but think these malignant thoughts about her while she was looking her most innocent painting flowers. Even as he thought daily, constantly, persistently of beautiful red roses, the occasional Lily popped up in his mind and these were the times that James found he smiled these days.

The blankets of winter hadn't fallen yet, but the taste of snowflakes were on the air. Every tree held its breath for it, every animal stayed silent incase they missed its arrival. Even the wind chose to stay silent today. James wore nothing but his yellow and red house scarf and a thick black sweater and even as he sat there he felt the need for more warmth, but he just didn't have the energy to do much anything about it. To get up and grab his coat two feet away was too much effort.

Perhaps he would ask Alicia to fetch it for him, she still seemed mobile.

"The flowers are lovely, Alicia, when did you start painting them?"

The flowers that Alicia was painting were blue roses. James couldn't help but think that this described Alicia perfectly. She was impossibly perfect, impossibly beautiful and impossibly kind and sincere; and James couldn't bring himself to crush her impossibly perfect heart just for loving him and slowly losing him.

James hadn't spoken to Lily in three weeks other than during formal meetings with the prefects. Ever since apologizing, he hadn't spoken to her at all. It left a barren hole in his life and he felt like he was disappearing behind the curtain that covered up his old, monotonous life as it passed him by at a snail's pace. Lily was like a clock that fast-forwarded him and he had thrown it away. Often he wondered why.

The question James would have like to ask was _'When did you start painting?'_ but even _he_ saw the ignorance of that question and thus decided to hope that she would elaborate on origins deeper than when she started that particular painting. If he were ever to accept his fate he should at least stow away useful bits of information about the person to share his fate.

Alicia finished her brush stroke and stood back to inspect her work before turning around and fixing James with a kind stare and a kind smile. "I started this one three weeks ago. I've been giving it additions every day since. When I was a little girl, I used to get into my mother's paints. When I was six, she gave me my own canvas. If I could just paint all my life…"

"You would be happy?" he finished for her, half-asking, half-knowing.

Alicia smiled. "Correct. I've never really wanted to be a Healer or anything like that. You'll be in the ministry, so I think I'd rather paint. I would sell my paintings to those who would buy them and write you letters every day you're away on a business trip."

James smiled. "Of course. I'll read them and think always of you."

If Lily wrote him a love letter, he could imagine what it would be. A large red lipstick kiss stuck to folded up paper with _love Evans_ in the corner. There would be no words required for her; for she needed none—chances were that everything was said and done before he would leave. Chances were that she wouldn't be there when he returned anyway. Winds like her didn't stay in one spot for very long he imagined.

James could see Alicia standing in the doorway, ready and receiving when he came home. Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps he was always meant for the kind amber eyes than the fickle and fierce green ones.

Alicia smiled in return. "We make an excellent pair, James."

"We always do," he returned almost systematically.

For a long time now, James hadn't been thinking. For a long time now he had just let his body do what was natural to it—what was reflexive—whatever answer was instinct and expected. For a long time now James' brain had shut off. Its life goal had been accomplished and it was bored with the outcome. There were no more challenges and there were no more twists in his life that would even disturb it let alone shake it up entirely. His life was the still pond, the gentle breeze, the silent cloud. His life was boredom.

Somehow, he had grown a burning hate for this kind of life and he knew why. Although it was relatively short, he felt what it was like to live and be free of the constraints of everything around him, from parental expectation, from being bound lock and key, from having your book stolen and your future written down for you. Having to return to his cage, like a lost bird, felt infuriating to him and yet the fire burned deep within, so deep that it was almost non-existent under the subdued acceptance of his fate.

James had never been one of those people who broke the chains of fate; he was more the person that didn't struggle when more slipped themselves around him. No, James could be best described as a dog on a leash that had blinders on. There was not even a treat out in front to prod him forward.

Alicia gave him one last smile before turning back to her painting and preparing to pack up. Sighing quietly, James got up and helped her clean up, carrying her equipment as they returned to the castle. This was how they had spent the last three Sunday afternoons. Alicia would paint the entire afternoon and James would dully watch her. With no homework, no Head duties and no excuses to spend time with Lily—which he wasn't looking for anymore—the only commitment he had was Alicia. In a way, he found himself bitter that he had to devote so much more time to this girl when he was already marrying her in the end.

It was a horrible thought, he knew, but he couldn't help but feel that was the case.

It wasn't until Alicia's parasol was out, blocking the non-existent rays of the sun did James realize that he had already started escorting her back towards the castle. It was not yet winter, but she still treated it as if it were the first day of spring—bright, sunny and beautiful instead of harsh, cold and unforgiving.

Alicia's grip on his arm was light but strong, he wouldn't have been able to break it away immediately if he needed to. It wasn't a vice, but it definitely trapped him. Alicia was his net, his cage and his key to that cage was nowhere to be found. James had gotten the feeling that he had lost it a long time ago and wouldn't even know what it looked like if he saw it again.

No matter what, James just couldn't shake the feeling of being bound under lock and key. Somehow, he knew that this wasn't how his parents were raised and yet they raised him this way. It was unfair of them. It wasn't just unfair, it was cruel and heartless. To choose your son's life without even letting him live it himself was something short of torture.

"A net."

Alicia stopped walking to look up at him. "Annette? Did you just call me 'Annette?' Are you feeling well, James?"

Shaking himself out of his inner musings, James thought quickly, turning to smile at her. "No, of course not. I was just thinking that it is a shame that my great Aunt Annette isn't able to come to the wedding. She so looked forward to the day I got married."

Naturally, James had no 'Great Aunt Annette' and was hoping that he was a good enough actor to fool her or that she was gullible enough to believe him. One way or another, he had to cover his tracks like a child in a snowstorm.

Simply smiling, Alicia laid her head against James' arm for a moment. "Well, I'm sure she'll be happily watching us that day from heaven above, yes?"

"Yes." James smiled bitterly, thanking sweet merciful God that Alicia didn't even know half the Potter family tree or know that half of them were aurors and that half was primarily dead.

Once they reached the castle James kissed her hand mechanically and they parted ways as Alicia had some other work to finish and business to attend to. It wasn't until he ended up near the Hospital Wing did James realize he had been randomly wandering the hallways with no clear destination in mind. Sighing, he just decided that he should return to his room and study or fall asleep and hope to die in it so that he would not have to wake up to this boring life he had been born into.

As he passed by the wing he heard loud, raucous coughing coming from inside. Normally, these sorts of things never piqued his interest and he quite found himself more perverse than anything else for actually being curious about it, but somehow he recognized that cough. Angling his head towards the closed door to the Hospital Wing, James pursed his lips and looked around cautiously like a thief.

Sighing, he shook his head and rightfully decided that something like this was far too much excitement for his life than he could use—no matter how much he desperately wanted some. Just as his foot landed on the floor that would successfully guide him away from snooping that dredged on the levels of perversion, James heard the coughing again and it was unmistakable whose cough that was.

In a far away corner of his brain he couldn't help but be scared at his own ability to define it himself.

Edging up to the door, he glanced around once more cautiously and put his ear against the door in order to eavesdrop properly. The kind of proper that allowed you to be caught quite easily, he thought. And when you thought about it that way, what was honestly so proper about it in the first place if you got caught so easily doing it?

"Miss Evans! Honestly… parents would throw… fits!"

James frowned, he could only hear every other word but he definitely heard the right name being called.

"I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey," was the return—with more coughing.

James eyes widened. He had never heard her voice so disheartened, subdued or quiet. The only reason, in fact, he was certain he even managed to hear every syllable was because his ears had long become fine-tuned to her voice. Strange as it was, he had grudgingly accepted his unwanted, complicated affection for her.

Pomfrey gave an irritated groan. "Heavens, child, you'll cough up a lung. Have you even been eating properly? This is far more severe than it should be. To skip classes the past three days…"

After hearing that, James realized that he had, in fact, not seen Lily in any of his classes with her for the past three days of class precisely. It was only Sunday afternoon and he hadn't seen her properly in over a week, but he had only noticed just now that it was a little less than usual that he actually saw her.

A small part of him accused him of not being worried for her well-being. Even though it was small, that small part was armed with pins, needles, hand-grenades and machetes large enough to make him feel the pain in every fibre and nerve of his bleeding heart. It was quite the accumulation of guilt, he must admit.

"I'm sorry… Pomfrey…" was her weak reply.

It sounded like the hospital wing witch sighed and gave a typical shake of her head at the misbehaviour of children that often paid for that misbehaviour with their health. James was glad he was not one of those students for he had heard the screams of pain that Sirius had bellowed when they had to reconstruct his leg after a particularly nasty Quidditch accident that sent him right smack into the whomping willow.

Naturally it wasn't on the actual Quidditch Pitch, Sirius that idiot.

"That should do it… off you go now. And don't let me catch you back here like that again!"

James' eyes widened and he looked around, panicking his head off. Thinking quickly, he thought to take a few steps back and make it look like he was on his way here for some reason. As the door opened and Lily stepped out, James stopped and felt that familiar race of his pulse and his heart skip a beat as she entered his vision.

Lily was pale. If lilies were red, she would have been a light pink one. The ravenous red hair that was impossibly red seemed darker and redder than ever—Lily had kept the scarlet red colour from Halloween to her hair since she despised her natural colour so. It seemed even darker against the white dress she wore—the very same white dress she wore the first day he ever set proper eyes upon her. In fact, aside from her hair and the missing hat, she looked exactly as she did that day he met her.

This was the first time he had ever properly saw her again since avoiding her like the plague after he apologized. James couldn't help but think painstakingly that that would be something else he had to apologize to her for—even though he couldn't really tell why he needed to. The look on her face was one nothing short of pure fright that it took his words away until the door behind her closed.

"Hello, James," she said simply before turning away and walking down the corridor away from him.

In that moment James couldn't help but feel he had lost something more important than a silly little key he had been crying over for the past few weeks. Turning around, he completely forgot about spilling over an excuse as to why he was down by the hospital wing when he was and caught up to her, walking beside her at the brisk pace she set for him.

"Lily, what's the matter? You're white as a sheet!"

"Go back to wife;" she said sharply and irritably, "I don't need your charity."

James stopped walking, but only for a second. The tone in her voice was so cold and cutting that he couldn't help but feel offended just slightly. It was like being stabbed by icicles in the dead of winter. Jogging a bit to catch up, he sighed, touching her arm lightly; he was actually shocked when she stopped to slap it away.

"I told you already, Potter, go back to your wife," she said sharply, fixing him with her piercing green eyes. It was only seconds later did tears start sliding down her face. It was that instant that the first tear fell that James' mind raced furiously to scan the last couple weeks for any hint or trace of Lily it had recorded down in the rush of things and forgetting about her. Nothing had been different about her up until her mysterious disappearance of three days—five plus the weekend—ago.

James held his ground. "I'm… just worried for you. I just want to help you. You're clearly… going through something terrible."

The glare on her face fell and another tear escaped. It almost looked for a second that she would hug him to comfort herself until she held up an arm across her eyes like a little girl and started to cry. Thankfully it was a particularly empty wing of Hogwarts and few students had reason to come here except to nurse small sneezes, snuffles and whine to Madam Pomfrey how much they needed her to write a note to allow them not to go to class because they forgot to do their homework.

James had almost wished that she had hugged him because just seeing her cry like this was even more awkward than if she had hugged him. Upon seeing this as her reaction, James realized that this was probably a natural reflex for her and that she probably never had the luxury of having someone to ever 'be there' for her when she was going through something—Lily seemed the type to keep to herself despite how many friends surrounded her.

This was probably the first time in his entire life that James ever had to deal with a crying girl like this. He didn't know what to do or what to say at all. Girls just cried at everything there was on the face of this planet! They could cry about anything so much that you'd think their world was ending tomorrow! It was ridiculous how much they could cry, in fact. If every girl on earth had decided to cry all at once then the world would be in some serious trouble and another ark would be needed.

Alicia had never cried—except for maybe that once where she _almost_ cried. It was close but he somehow managed to avoid a major catastrophe. Whatever catastrophe had caused this he had yet to find out.

Placing both hands lightly on her shoulders stiffly, he leaned closer to her. "What's the matter, come on. This isn't the Evans I know."

Lily stopped crying and started taking in deep breaths, as if to calm herself down from this hysterical, erratic behaviour that was so un-Lily-like. When her breathing slowed down, she moved her arm away and wiped her face down with a handkerchief. Looking up at him, she smiled as if nothing ever happened.

"You know ducks, actually, are quite cute when they're worried. Something about their feathers shine," she said, reaching up and playing with an errant piece of his hair, smoothing it back behind his ear.

James eyes widened for a second and his heart paused as he felt her hand brush against his ear. Without even thinking, he gave her a curt response as opposed to something that would be more appropriate to a girl that had just been crying not a moment ago. "You must be fine enough then, to harass me so quickly after." Immediately after he said it there was a look that passed over her face as if to attest to what an absolute prat he was being right now, but it disappeared right away.

Lily let out a laugh and shrugged her shoulders, smoothing a piece of her own hair back behind her ear. "What can I say? Things like that bounce off me like water to a duck."

_Things like that._

Things like pain, sorrow and even hints of complaint.

Beneath that smile, James could somehow tell that troubled waters bubbled beneath. Even though he knew this, he wouldn't dare bring it up. Lily was the type whose policy was deny, deny, deny. It was denial so bad that she probably didn't even believe it existed herself.

James could remember when he was in denial so deep about his, er, affection for Lily. It was an awkward, confusing time and he didn't much like it. Life had become so much easier since learning to accept and even chase after it for a quick moment until he dropped it fruitlessly. It was really unbelievable how he had come to adore her every word and swish of her raven red hair—a colour that suited her well but made his knees weaker than a kitten.

Smiling, he sighed. "Nothing fazes you, does it, Lily?"

Lily smiled in return. "Absolutely nothing," she almost sighed.

As James stood there, staring into her emerald green eyes, he couldn't help but feel they were like poison, slowly dripping into his heart, mingling with his blood and coursing through his veins. Every drop pulled him deeper below the surface of desire and reality. The more he stared at these eyes, he realized the more he would be unable to look away from them or resist their infinitely magnetic pull.

It wasn't long until Lily's smile slowly faded as she matched his stare. James couldn't help but feel so helpless and absolutely lost just standing there, staring at her captivating green eyes that threatened to drown him. If that happened, he was quite sure he would be too fixated on those eyes to even notice the water rising up to his chin… the liquid poison filling his lungs.

Reaching for her chin slowly, he found himself draw closer to her until the contact between his hand and her chin dragged him back to reality and he jumped back and let go in surprise—perhaps of what he was doing, perhaps in guilt that he was marrying Alicia and this wasn't right. Lily didn't even move as if to notice anything that happened. Not even a look passed over her eyes.

"It's a painful thing, isn't it?" she said with a grin on her face.

James felt his face grow hot and tore his eyes away from her, burning in either embarrassment or guilt. He didn't like this feeling—of being trapped between point A and point B, not knowing where his destination was. It felt like they were unconsciously playing tug-o-war with his heart and it was slowly being torn in half—that James might die of a broken heart before anything else.

When Lily said that, he realized, certainly, it was pain of a sort.

"It tugs at you until you tear, pulls on you until you start crying, drags you until you break. Amongst all this you can't do anything but futilely kick at the dead weight attached to your legs. It's a painful thing."

Turning on her heel, Lily started walking towards a wall. James' eyes widened momentarily, as if feeling the loss of her ring all throughout his body as he involuntarily took a step forward of his feet's own volition. To chase after something so blindly, he mused. It was definitely something to be a moth direly attracted to that flame. It was a flame no one could touch for it burned you before you reached it. It was just so warm and inviting and lovely and deathly beautiful that you couldn't help but be entranced by it, drawn in to its pleasing glow.

Indeed, it was a painful thing.

"What… did you just say?"

Lily turned around as she leaned against the wall, pushing it open at the same time. "What's what, you silly duck? I didn't say anything. Don't get your knickers in tangles over nothing, you'll end up knee deep again."

James took a step forward, advancing towards her, not even paying attention to the fact that she was disappearing into the darkness behind the wall. "Hey now, stop talking like a fool and start making some sense. You haven't made a single word of sense since the day I met you. Every time I see you I'm afraid the space around you will spontaneously combust or fall apart."

Simply smiling, she darted her eyes quickly to the right and tugged on his tie, pulling him into the darkness with her. James yelped and stumbled before grabbing onto the nearest wall and steadying himself as the wall behind them shifted closed. Eyes widening in panic, James' face instantly met that wall as he desperately searched for a way out. It was almost like his mind had thought ahead of what would happen and his survival instincts had already kicked in.

This situation right now was everything and anything but what he needed or wanted. Hyperventilation started to kick in as he hopelessly realized that this was the kind of situation he was trying to avoid for the past couple weeks by spending them with Alicia. Those weeks didn't diminish the effect Lily had on him, they only delayed the inevitable—hopefully long enough to be married to Alicia Rose and living as far away from the beautiful and deadly poison that was Lily Evans as possible.

"James…?" called a voice from beyond the wall.

James' eyes widened in panic. It was Alicia! It was her voice! Surely she could rescue him from here? Surely… surely he wanted to be rescued? Surely… the rush in his veins was from the guilt of being stuck behind a wall in a musty, dark—no, scratch that, Lily has her wand out—and old corridor with Lily Evans while his fiancée was on the other side looking for him? Certainly all hell would break loose if Alicia found him here with Lily Evans, of all people. For that there was no excuse. Unless he had some Polyjuice and a piece of Sirius' hair—that would have been believable because then he wouldn't even be here and Alicia would think that those two were in love—when they very much were not.

Perhaps… no… but he could always… no, that was a ridiculous idea too.

James felt Lily's hands—for they could be no others'—reach around his neck lithely with surprising ease, as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

"Falling apart yet?" Lily whispered into his ear dangerously. "Is the water too deep?"

James' eyes turned into saucers and he grit his teeth as every hair on the back of his neck shot up so straight he was quite surprised they were still attached to him. This was everything he did and didn't want. Words died in his mind even as he tried to formulate them and force them out of his mind to connect with his mouth.

"I thought I heard him over here… I guess it was my imagination…"

Even as James' heard the beating of his heart sync with the falling and dying sound of Alicia's footsteps, he could feel her there, just _breathing_ on him, making his mind spin circles and his knees shake so furiously that he may never walk straight again. It was maddening and electrifying and it shook up all his senses.

"There's your wife… shall you chase her?" she inquired as if already knowing the answer and just saying it to tease him ruthlessly. Lily was still, but he could feel the beat of her heart against his back and how it went one beat slower than his that was probably breaking speed limits as it went—for Lily was calm and when she was calm like this she could be dangerous.

He could feel her heart beat.

He could feel her light breath.

He could feel her hair dance against his skin.

He could smell her floral perfume that suited her so well it should be illegal.

He could hear the blood pounding in his temple so very in sync with his heart that he felt that it must echo throughout the hallway behind them.

He could feel his head spin fast as his eyes continued to stare at the wall his forehead rested against.

The cool of that wall was not enough to cool down his head. Even the draft that blew errantly throughout the corridor—which, in a corner of his brain had registered, accounted for the strange draft that always attacked someone on their way to the Hospital Wing—couldn't make up for how utterly claustrophobic he felt right now. The stone underneath the palm of his hand was cold—as the weather outside had properly adjusted the insides of the castle to match. It sent shivers up his spine but even so he felt like he had no space—that it was too hot and he couldn't breathe.

It wasn't until Lily slipped away from him did James return to reality from his own inner turmoil. Turning around, he saw her standing a metre away, holding her wand up, her head tilted, moved to the side to show him the length of the corridor. The wand light gave her a magical feel and made her eyes sparkle as the light of the wand danced in mirrored harmony in those poisonous green eyes.

"You're too far down the rabbit hole to turn back now, my little duck," she said with a sly smile. "Come on, this way leads back to our rooms, unless you'd like to stay here and count the steps your lover is taking in a direction away from you," she said a little more errantly before turning and leading the way down the corridor.

James' pupils dilated as the light slowly left him standing there in a daze and he quickened his pace before he caught up with her, watching the sway of her raven red hair that never properly returned to its natural colour since Halloween.

Indeed, he was far too deep down that rabbit hole and far too caught to climb back out now.

* * *

To My Reviewers:

I love you all. Honestly, selfishly, I write for myself, so just knowing that other people enjoy my work as much as I do is enough for me. Even so, I know you guys are still taking time to read it and that makes my heart warm. Silent adoration is acceptable as well. :)

This chapter was also retardedly long, for that I deeply apologize.

Comments:

Oh... I think I pulled a Rain here somewhere... Nuts. I definitely think I did now. Now that I look back on it... tsk.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	8. Beautiful Garden

Chapter Eight: Beautiful Garden

Every summer, Mother would make cookies.

I can't say why she chose to make cookies during the summer and offer fruity deserts at Christmas, but I loved it all the same. I lied so many times in so many ways on so many levels to get those cookies before dinner. Mother's cookies were always the best. Petty could make them, but hers were only half as good as the real thing and I always told her as much and then she would scream and cry later and Mother would hush her and Father would scold me.

It was really only my first year at muggle school did I realize just how strange it was to have some variant of peach cobbler during the holidays and cookies at summertime. Everyone had just the opposite. It was just something that our family had done for such a long time I didn't think it was weird. When I told the other kids that we had cookies during the summer they all laughed.

So the next time I lied and told them that we had cookies at Christmas and fruit milkshakes during the summer. After that they never laughed at me again.

The very next week I was invited to Natalie's birthday party for a sleepover and she was my best friend up until I was seven. After that we had a terrible fight and I never spoke to her again.

I can't quite recall what we fought over but I know that was only because I was crying so much. Now that I think about it, Natalie was such a priss it was amazing I ever wasted so much time with her. I occasionally still see her, whenever I'm home during the summer—not that I'm home very much. She wears proper clothing; skirts, blouses and pretty summer dresses—and always has a charming boy on her arm—never the same one twice. Occasionally I see her break their hearts—but sometimes they beat her to it and break hers.

The summer I lost my best friend I lost so much more.

Back then, I had no idea what magic was. I hadn't the faintest. I had heard about it in stories and fairytales, but none of it was real to me. It was as real to me as Santa Claus. My parents didn't believe in Santa Claus and they told us just as much every Christmas just that; that he didn't exist. I've actually made children at school cry when I've told so. They would cry and whine and call me a liar and that Santa Claus existed.

I couldn't count the times I've lied to anyone—everyone. If I were given a pence for every lie I've ever told to anybody I would have been an extremely rich little girl by the age of five. I even told a lie that I was blood-related to the Queen to Natalie and she believed me—the idiot. I couldn't ever quite understand Natalie's fascination with royalty and dresses so expensive that only royalty or really stuck-up people could afford. I couldn't understand the difference between 'gourmet' and regular ice cream back then. I still can't understand the difference, but I can certainly taste it now. There should only ever be one type of food and that is regular so it is easier for everyone to understand.

I've been called a liar so many times it had almost become my nickname. 'Lying Little Lily' they would call me. At that I would just smile, say nothing and reap the rewards or punishments of the lies I told. The teachers always told me I was simply… imaginative and that sometimes it went too far and I should stop—or at least find a decent line I ought not to cross. My parents always told me that it may be fun to avoid the truth for the moment but those little white lies always grew big, black, and ugly in time. They never called me a liar. My parents never called us anything but 'angels' or 'princesses' or 'darlings.' Petty always called me childish names because we were sisters and we fought from time to time, but she never called me a liar frequently.

I suppose I didn't care what other children or other people called me because my family never called me that and so it must not be true.

My mother, Diane, was such a lovely woman. She was every kind of beautiful and could sing enough to rival the birds that lived in our oak tree out front. With such a lovely voice she always told us that she sang every day so that our father would fall in love with her all over again. Our father, whenever he heard this would wink and say something akin to 'and it works too.' Then he would kiss her and Mother would give us flowers or ice cream.

Petty always preferred the flowers for she was old enough to be worried about her 'figure' and I always got ice cream.

I loved my Mother so much and I never wanted things ever to change. To wake up seeing her kind and patient face every morning, to see her ready with supper when I got home. It was the best kind of life I could have ever hoped for. I had no envy for I was the one to envy. I had nothing to be jealous of when it came to my mother because she was absolutely the best and I loved her so dearly.

My father was always the silly romantic and would often paint pictures of ducks. Any and all ducks he would paint. My favourites were the white ones with orange bills. My room was full of his pictures of ducks. I got a new one every year on my birthday. He would paint from morning to night and paint pictures of everything—anything that came to mind. Sometimes he would go on trips and paint for days on end. Mother always told us that it was part of being a 'world famous professional' and I remember Petty always saying that she, too, would paint like Father and become a world famous professional so she could follow Father all around the world.

Every time he was in town he would come home and spoil all of us with toys and wonderful foods that he would bring home to us. I remember that he would always take a drink of his brandy—but never more than one drink ever—and tell us stories from his trips all night until he was tired and fell asleep or we were tired and fell asleep. Those days I always looked forward to and cherished for Mother never let us stay up later than ten on any ordinary day. Those days we often required more firewood and less candles and lights in the living room so Mother enjoyed them as well in other ways.

Although Petty was a terrible cook and baker, I always admired her paintings so very much and she would always be at her kindest whenever painting for I would always bring her desert in order to watch her paint. My elder sister had such a terrible soft spot for deserts I could always bring the best out of her or dispel one of our more heated arguments with a single cookie or piece of cake or pie. I've always thought that Petty was prettiest and loveliest when she painted—especially in the art room. The door to it was always closed for Mother disliked the smell to be so strong throughout her house, but the window in the art room was always open. All the windows in the art room were always open—to let the sun in and the odour out.

Whenever I saw her paint and brought desert I've always told her that she didn't have to watch her figure at all for it was so perfect already. Petty would smile and reply 'but that's why I need to watch it, so it stays perfect like that all the time.' The sun would shine off her hair and she would always hum a tune whenever she painted. It would always be the same tune and I could even hum it myself because I've heard it so much.

After all, it was Mother's Song that we would listen to every night to put us to sleep.

My life was as good as it could ever be. I never thought it would change. I thought I would finish school and still be able to eat Mother's cookies in the winter, her peach cobbler at Christmas, stay up late with Father by the fireplace and watch Petty paint.

I never thought I would lose Natalie that summer I was seven. I never thought I would lose anyone that summer. I never thought my life would derail and switch tracks completely from the happy trail it surely would have followed.

It was that terrible summer I was seven that magic came to me. It came in random spurts and was, for the most part, very uncontrollable. I didn't know what was happening when a blackout would affect only our house or our block. I didn't ever understand how Mother's best apron caught on fire somehow or how Petty's painting of ducks for my birthday was scorched clean but the area around it perfectly fine. I didn't know and I couldn't say or understand why.

It wasn't until Petty had her suspicion about me—about me and my magic—that everything started to fall apart. That suspicion soon became firm belief after she saw me set the living room drapes aflame just by touching them that I was abnormal—that I was something unordinary and had gained something extraordinary.

It was after that incident she started calling me a freak.

The fire was easily put out and no harm was done other than a large scorch mark where the flames rose.

Then, one night, when Petty was out on her very first date with a boy—whose name I couldn't remember—that Father hated almost as much as the boy who would occasionally smile at me across the street when I sat on my front porch, something terrible happened.

The new drapes set fire again and this time it caused a terrible thing. All I truly remember was standing there in abject horror to see everything around me rising to flame and all the paintings that Father had painted set in the living room melt away to nothing but ash and cinder. It was late at night and I had told Mother and Father I was worried for Petty—that her date might eat her and that I should call the police should that happen. It was because of that that I was up so late at night and that Mother and Father were sleeping when it happened. I often still think that if Petty had simply dated someone not so overweight this whole travesty could have been avoided.

When I remember what I did I can't help but blame myself for selfishly running outside as fast as I could once I realized the living room was not the same living room I grew up in for seven and a half years. I can still remember stumbling outside and screaming at the top of my lungs at their window to wake up and run and escape and live. I can even remember trying to push back inside to go and get them if it weren't for the china case being on fire and in the way.

So I stood there and watched the house burn down as I cried and cried and cried even when the sirens sounded and firemen came and tore through my house to try and save my parents. I don't remember anything they said to me that night. In fact, I don't remember anything between running outside and crying to the exact moment Petty came home.

I saw the shock, sadness and anger all on her face. Petty was a few years older than me—not old enough to be on a date, my Father would say, but old enough. When she saw me she slapped my face and shook my shoulders.

"You did this! You FREAK! How could you!? Just like that time you set fire to the house again!"

I remember crying. I remember telling her it wasn't my fault, that I didn't know what was happening and that all I knew was that the living room was on fire before I knew it and I couldn't do anything otherwise.

It was right there she screamed at me, calling me a liar so loud that everyone turned and looked for two seconds before getting back to work. Tears ran down her eyes, smudging her makeup and making her look the ugliest I've ever seen her.

After that I never called her 'Petty' ever again. After that I never once told a lie even to save myself. After that I didn't speak for a whole week and a half to anyone. Even after that I didn't eat any cookies or ice cream until Christmas.

The summer I was seven was the worst summer of my entire life.

I lost Natalie.

I lost my Mother.

I lost my Father.

I lost my Petty.

That summer I lost everything.

Petunia never painted again and she never saw that boy ever again. Not only that but she would always look at me with eyes full of hatred and loathing so deep I learned the full extent of how very opposite love and hate were. I knew what it was like to be hated, despised and the cause of someone else's anger. Whenever grandma or grandpa were home she would stay silent and not even look at me. When she was set to watch me while they were away she would always give me those looks of absolute hatred. I knew ever since the night of the fire that Petunia blamed it all on me—and she had every right to. I blamed myself.

During those times I lost my name. I was never called Lily ever again just like I never called her Petty ever again. Petunia would always prefer to call me 'freak' or her most favourite 'liar' and sing that song about lying. Petunia was particularly vicious with that and even extended it beyond normal and probably acceptable means.

"Liar, liar, pants on fire, go to Hell and burn forever!"

Whenever she said this I would always stay silent and eventually find myself in my room where I would cry and think of Mother and Father and her cookies and his stories.

My grandparents were wonderful people, but they were not my parents—they could only do so much. It was here that I learned where my mother got the habit of making cookies in the summer and peach cobbler at Christmas.

I lived with my grandparents until I was eleven and endured all that from Petunia for four years until I got the letter. Both of them had no idea what it was or what was happening and—for that matter—neither did I. _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_ sounded like something straight out of either the mind of an inhabitant of an insane asylum or a story book. None of us knew how the letter came randomly with no stamp or proper return address. It wasn't until Professor McGonagall came about ten minutes after the letter arrived to explain things did everything spin backwards and upside down.

Even as I was happy to be going to a school like that—happy that it was true and it existed outside of the story books; happy that I would be away from Petunia for so long during the year—I thought it was an unfair trade. I still thought that the night that I had somehow traded magic at the cost of all my family and everything I ever held dear in this life wasn't enough to balance out everything that I had lost. In my mind and in my heart, karma still owed me and it owed me a lot more than stupid magic.

Even as I think back on my seventh summer I think that, if I could, I would throw magic away just to hear Mother sing or see Father paint and taste Petunia's terrible baking.

That is the story of my seventh summer.

My first day at Hogwarts I told myself that if I could not have my perfect muggle life back no matter what, I will do my best in this one. It should be an equivalent trade and I should have an astounding magical life to make up for the wonderfully plain and simple one I lost to magic.

My first summer returning back, Petunia slammed the door in my face. By then I was old enough and had learned enough to sigh and open the door, give my grandparents each a big hug and regale them stories of Hogwarts and magic and everyone over there that lived in that world and how happy I was to be a part of it. Grandma would make cookies and Grandpa would always dance with Petunia and I. I would stay with them during the summer and it would always be wonderful with them until I had to go again for next year and there would be equal tears, cookies and warm feelings that were sent with me.

My next few years presented themselves in the same manner until the beginning of my fifth year at Hogwarts. That summer grandma died and they say grandpa died of a broken heart. The house was given to us both, to continue to live in and share. The fourth year at Hogwarts I had to leave early to attend their funeral. That day the funeral was held was the only day Petunia hugged me since before my fourth summer when I arrived back home knowing what I knew.

The day after as I woke up crying in my room in their empty house, I made a vow that I would not be beaten by something as silly and stupid and so very permanent as death. I would win against misery and sorrow and I would not cry for anyone or anything anymore from that day forward. I would change myself so horribly much that no one would ever be able to recognize me properly as the same Lily Evans. I would no longer be an easy target for misfortune to land on me. Instead I would take a gun and shoot lady luck in the head every time she came near. That day forward I decided to make my own luck.

Somehow, some way, I was able to do it. My fifth year was drastically different, it was completely different and I enjoyed every second of it. I remember once when I was young I read a story about a girl who did whatever she wanted—a girl who would throw kisses to the boys and never look back while they were smitten silly with her. I read about a girl who was fearless, ageless and perhaps just a touch insane for normal standards.

The more I had thought about her, the more I wanted to be her and so, little by little, I did.

Everyone noticed the change immediately—I had become a candidate for Head Girl by January of my fifth year—to be Head Girl for my seventh year I was already in the running. McGonagall supported me and always told me that if I kept up this pace it would be an easy victory for she would have chosen no one else. It was, also, in part, due to my circumstances, of how I triumphed over adversity and every other similar stupid story you could imagine like that. I was no heroine, however, I was just a girl with an invisible gun that was cornered and constantly pointed that gun at luck, misery and travesty.

The next summer she slammed the door in my face once again and I once again sighed and simply went straight up to my room to unpack my things for the summer. I wrote letters every day to all my friends and even kept in touch with McGonagall—who turned out to be my most favourite teacher out of everyone just because of circumstance.

It was just a shame that I was so terrible at her subject.

About a week before school started for my last and final year I saw James Potter. Keily would always talk about him and mention that he was engaged to Alicia Rose. Alicia was always far too refined for my taste and so we never mixed much before except for that one incident that was mainly my fault during fifth year. I found it odd for a boy so young to be engaged so early only to find out that he had been engaged to this girl nearly all his life.

James Potter was the only one at Hogwarts who ever called me a liar.

Coincidentally, James Potter was the only one in my entire life to apologize for it.

I suppose, in some way, that fact alone trumps him calling me a liar since he won't be the first or the last.

I don't think much about him—not much more than any other boy I've ever met at school, but I do find myself pitying him immensely, for whenever he stares at Alicia Rose I can tell it's not love. I've seen the way that my parents looked at each other. I know the look of love.

Or at least I thought I did. I didn't know that it looked different for everyone—I had only ever seen my parents love each other so wholly and committed to each other that I thought that was the only way to look. I thought to myself, if I avoid that look as much as possible, I'll never fall down that rabbit hole, I'll never get caught by the fox that's already eaten the rabbit. No one ever told me that you can't run from it; that no matter what it finds you.

All you can do is not give it the key.

I still don't think much about James, even now.

The only things I see in James are chains around him all over as he sleeps in a dangerous bed of thorny roses.

As for me, I think I shall try never fall in love for I never want my heart to break the same way it did during my seventh summer. I'll be blind to the face of love, I'll ignore it, I'll tell it to shoo; to leave me alone.

I think I would rather die than let that happen again.

* * *

To My Reviewers:

T.T You really are so wonderful! Makes my heart cry knowing you love my story so much!

jkwannabe07: An affair? Oh my, I think I'm too straight-laced to write something like that. It would be an interesting idea though!

Comments:

After writing so much Lily, Lily, Lily, it really is hard to do one with James as the main focus. This is my reprieve, I suppose. Btw, before you comment, this isn't a filler chapterish, I just thought it would be the best place to put this up.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	9. Escapee from Azkaban

Chapter Nine: Escapee from Azkaban

"You're a psycho!"

Lily merely laughed. "Well, what a cute nickname you have for me, cute ducky. I'm afraid I don't return the warm sentiments, but I do give my love and affection to you for all of ever," she said in that flighty manner that made him want so desperately to find a gun and shoot one of two people in the vicinity.

This had been the conversation for the last fifteen minutes of walking through the secret corridors that supposedly let to the Head Rooms. James had calculated in his head that it took roughly five to walk back from the Hospital Wing. How this was a shortcut when it took so much longer absolutely confounded him, but Lily continued to insist it was what it was supposed to be—other than what it was to James.

The rush had died after about five minutes of walking, listening to her chat her head off about most anything and everything including some random epic saga about ducks migrating from Alaska to London—which he was certain were full of lies, although he didn't say anything about it. James had fallen from cloud nine and landed on some very sharp rocks of irritation and every kind of pain you could inflict from being utterly annoying.

"Just how long is this stupid tunnel of yours? When will it end? Sweet Merlin, woman, I just want to get out of here! It's like being stuck in an asylum with a lunatic!"

Laughing once more Lily sighed. "Oh, James, my poor little fowl, this is a shortcut! Even Merlin knows what those are. You're such pleasant company, darling; you tell me _such_ sweet nothings. Makes a girl want to cry bitter tears of joy."

Groaning, James stopped walking and so did Lily, turning around, crossing her arms. The wand lit her face up eerily as she frowned at him. Every five minutes or so James felt the need to vent just a little more than usual. This was one of those times.

"Does nothing faze you? Are you impervious to absolutely everything?"

Lily would shrug and return his barb with a coy smile. "Everything but love, my dear, for love gives us wings to fly and fall on love's sharp and jagged peaks below."

"You are a lovesick fool."

"And you are terrible lover," she shot back, pointing a finger at him as if it were an accusation.

James felt his face go red hot and he grit his teeth in frustration. "I am not your lover I am Alicia's!"

Lily folded her arms. "I'll believe it when I see it. You, little boy, have never so much as glanced at the face of love let alone stare it in the eyes. For that matter, I never said you were mine either. Now, pet, do you intend to stay here in the dark fuming over a lovers' quarrel or travel further down this rabbit hole deeper towards glorious salvation?" she asked before turning on her heel and taking the light with her.

James stood there, fuming for a few short seconds as the light slowly died away. Of course she had every intention of leaving him behind if he didn't keep up—that was the typical Lily thing to do. To leave him behind, he had no doubt she would because…

"That woman has no heart," he muttered spitefully before taking a step towards the fleeting light ahead of him.

This entire trip had splashed a bucket of ice cold water over him and his fevered mind, he realized. Certainly, Alicia was ten times better than this girl—who probably couldn't walk a straight line to save her life. There was an unmistakable perfection about Alicia that he somehow wondered he missed. It was the few weeks alone with her that made him forget about all of her admirable qualities. It was the distance from Lily that made him think otherwise.

It was the blinding pressure that felt like his head was being squashed between two walls like a sandwich right now did James realize how much he couldn't stand Lily. Lily was the very definition of delinquent. How she managed to make it to be Head Girl like that was a complete and absolutely utter mystery to him. Why she chose to ruin his life at this precise moment—this precise year was nothing short of unbelievable. With only a few months left on the clock until he was married, at this moment he wondered how he could have ever not wanted to get married to Alicia.

If it weren't for her being engaged to him she would have hundreds of suitors lined up at her doorway. James was lucky to get her for nothing short of free by circumstance.

As he quickened his pace towards the light, he stopped behind her when Lily stopped, staring at a wall. Upon that wall was a picture of someone James had never seen. It wasn't an enchanted portrait like all the rest in the school—that much was apparent when it didn't move. The portrait was of a lady in a black and white dress with blood red hair and eyes, carrying a fan that covered half her face but accented her eyes so much that it looked like she was staring right through you.

"Why is this here… I wonder?" she asked quietly in a manner that was not very Lily at all.

There was a signature in the corner that James couldn't recognize, but it was signed in silver paint and still shone even though the painting must be years old. Lily reached up and almost reverently touched the signature in the corner. It was a strange place to put a picture—in an abandoned corridor that was probably only known to a few students in all of Hogwarts history.

"A donation perhaps. Hogwarts receives many gifts and donations every year by parents and other people of power in the wizarding community."

Lily withdrew her hand and smiled, still staring at the signature before her eyes moved up to scan the picture and look in the girl's eyes. When James followed her gaze, he looked back at Lily and vaguely realized that Lily could have been the girl in the picture if her eyes were red rather than green. It was such a striking resemblance and yet not Lily he couldn't help but wonder. Thoughts of Lily's Halloween outfit flooded his mind and he grit his teeth trying to keep a calm composure so that his face wouldn't overheat.

"Perhaps… It is… a wonderful painting. Anyway, let's carry on, this place is full of old things and I don't want any more mould to grow in that brain of yours. Heaven knows what I would do for a good Head Boy then. Not that I have one now anyway," she added absentmindedly.

James frowned and glared at her but said nothing as she continued on. It was these sort of remarks that irritated James—general insults—as well as insults that he wasn't quite sure were insults but was pretty certain of. It was also times like these that James really honestly wondered how he could have ever fallen for someone like her. For someone who knew how to live life and enjoy it so much better than everyone else around her.

As he thought about this, his anger disappeared as he watched her back in complete silence. Lily had become eerily quiet—perhaps the longest she had ever been quiet in the presence of anybody much less himself. Even though Lily irritated him to no end on even the best of days, he still had to admit that she was definitely a lively girl.

This, he realized, was quite possibly the reason for his attraction to her in the first place. If he could apply that same love of living to Alicia it would quite possibly create his perfect woman. James couldn't say that he never dreamed of his perfect woman without lying—no boy really could. All boys just tended to… have lesser standards when it actually came to looking for the ideal woman. Some didn't even think about it until the perfect girl came walking along into their lives talking nonsense about ducks.

Much like Lily did to him.

"I always use this corridor when returning from the Hospital Wing." James felt a heart to heart coming along and he wasn't sure he was ready to handle one with someone as radioactive as Lily Evans right now. "I like it because no one can ever see you on your way back. I don't know exactly how much of the school it goes through… but it should be a lot shorter than this."

James was about to say something else when the words died on his lips and instead were replaced with "So you're saying we're basically lost."

Effectively, that doused any possibility of a heart to heart with the dramatic, drastic and daring Lily Evans. Of that he wasn't certain he should be crying in happiness or crying in misery at the loss of such an opportunity to get in her head. Then again, getting in _her_ head could prove fatal to _his_.

Lily turned back around and winked at him. "But it's such a romantic tunnel, don't you think? You and me, having an affair away from prying eyes and Rose."

James opened his mouth to say something until that, too, died on his lips.

Possibly because her lips were on his in place of words.

Every rebuttal to anything James might have said immediately died on hers and Lily's eyes widened as saucers as her wand clattered to the ground. The glimpse of her face he caught before he instinctively closed his eyes was one that just about anyone would classify as horrified shock and disbelief. It was one of those rare moments that your soul jumps out of your skin, stares at you and really wonders if that is you with your lips on that boy. James was almost positive that was her reaction right now because his reaction was something similar—then again he was normal and she was by all means anything but.

Unbelievable.

Absolutely unbelievable.

James was in absolute shock.

Shock so bad that he didn't move for almost five seconds.

Neither of them moved for exactly five seconds.

James had just experienced his first kiss with Lily Evans, of all people.

It wasn't until James moved away slowly and opened his eyes to stare at her did they part. Lily's hands hung limp by her sides and she stared at James, simply standing there, unmoving. This was probably the calmest he had ever seen Lily—for she was always moving, always talking, always irritating; always anything but still and quiet and peaceful like this.

Horrified, but still peaceful.

Slowly, she squatted down on the ground, picked up her wand and stood back up, turning around, leading the way through the corridor as if nothing ever happened.

Well, that was quite the unexpected reaction.

James inwardly sighed and wished he could have shot himself to save him the embarrassment. The rest of this corridor was undeterminably long and he had no idea how much longer it would be until they left it. It seemed to wind on forever and ever in turns, corners and stairs without stopping all on a one-way route to somewhere he was certain Lily didn't know of.

As they came upon a set of stairs, Lily lifted her wand higher in order to see what was at the top for them.

"We're almost there. Up these stairs, another left and we'll be back to our rooms in nothing flat."

James reached out and touched her shoulder. "Lily, I'm sorry. I… it just… sort of… happened and…" Any other explanation died—not from lack of nerve but because it probably burned on its way up because he was feeling so embarrassed right now that he was certain he could substitute a heater.

Surprisingly, Lily didn't shake his grip off and simply cocked her head around to look at him. "What are you sorry for, my cute ducky? _Nothing_ happened."

_Nothing happened._

So there it was.

That was the reason she was so calm about all of this. Lily was simply pretending as if it never happened, as it she had dreamed it and that James perhaps just shared her dream. It was true when she said that nothing at all fazed her—for nothing could get through. A million arrows could be shot at her and they would never even come close to grazing her let alone landing a fatal blow.

Lily was not like other girls whose very lives were hinged specifically on their emotions at the time and the weather. There was almost a fierce practicality about her that just floored you the moment you set eyes upon her. It was a… level-headedness you couldn't explain but was often covered up by her childishness and obvious, overwhelming irresponsibility for anything and everything. All this time James thought she had no concept whatsoever of everyone and everything around her when, really, she probably knew the most because she was the one who never took her eyes off it, as opposed to everyone else who wandered around in it, as if it were mist.

It was quite obvious with that look and that attitude she understood the circumstance James was in—perhaps better than James himself. To feign denial like that… it was like offering him a second chance.

Lily smiled. "There's a fox waiting at the end of that tunnel, James—don't get caught. Here's your warning to turn back," she said with a sly look before taking the first step up the stairs. James remembered that Sirius had said something similar earlier to him.

The woman was either a genius, evil or insane. James wasn't quite sure he wanted to know what description properly fit her. Lily understood perfectly his situation right now. She was offering him the grace to turn around, to forsake this dangerous line he was walking and properly step back onto the safe side of things, the safe side where Alicia waited patiently for him—waited lovingly for him. Over there, there could be no fatal mistakes—for all mistakes could be forgiven or corrected. Only minor healing was needed for minor injuries on that side of the line.

The line itself eventually came to an end.

On the other side he saw Lily, staring at him with her hand and finger pointed firmly at the other side—as if accusing it of something—as if accusing him of something. There she didn't smile; she only spoke of the dangers the side she was on held for him—telling him to take the higher route or be dragged down forever and risk drowning.

As James followed her up the stairs, he realized just how dangerous a line he was walking. Somehow he had found himself constantly drawn to that line, drawn to Lily until he was on top of that line. When he kissed her, right there, he just crossed it—there was no hope for him after that. A million ideas had flooded through his mind to just run away from his life—run away from it all with Lily running behind him—or rather her in front, leading him away.

Lily would never do that, he knew now for certain.

For it was only right after he crossed that line to kiss her did she push him back onto that line.

As James saw her leave, he felt something heavy in his chest start to constrict.

"Lily…" he said, once they reached the top and was in front of an empty portrait that resembled the one that the first Head Girl and Boy resided in on their entrance.

Lily stopped and half-turned to look at him. The look on her face was quiet but it clearly said _Don't go there, James Potter, it'll cause you grief more than anything else._

"Alicia must forgive me for saying this… but… I really… I really like you."

Lily's eyes widened slightly before they returned to normal—her eyes were the only way to tell how Lily was feeling for she had complete control over what her body did and does. In those eyes he saw something so akin to fear that he almost didn't believe that was what it was.

Reaching down, she smoothed back a stray strand of his hair behind his ear before sliding her finger down his jaw line to his chin before letting go. Leaning back on the portrait, the wall started to push forward in, revealing the living room of their exclusive dormitory together.

"Better know what you're doing so deep down that tunnel then; otherwise a fox might just come out eat you," she said with a dangerous smile before slipping inside the Head's Room and heading off towards her bedroom.

As James watched her go, he realized that she was right in every synonym of the word.

* * *

To My Reviewers:

Note: I think you all deserve to know that my computer with all my files on it is MIA. I only have this and the next chapter up on FF, so I'll update again and then... cross my fingers and hope for the best?

You're all so darling! I love youuu! I love you! I love you! It always makes me really happy to see that someone's reviewed and that you enjoy what I write so much! I honest to God read and consider all of them carefully! So, if you enjoy my work, please continue to love me! Every time I see that nobody reviews I always think "T.T What did I do wrong?" But you're all so amazing at it that I don't think that often.

Comments:

T.T I fail.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	10. Awkward Phrasings

Chapter Ten: Awkward Phrasings

"Oh, yes, of course. Certainly, we must do that. Of course. Of course. Absolutely. It's in the spring—of course you're invited! Until then, Lady Whitten."

James glanced at Alicia as she got of the phone, returning his gaze back out the window as the snow fell outside. He had never seen it snow so much in London during Christmas. It was like heaven was trying to bury mankind just like when it rained and flooded the earth. If a second flood were ever to happen he was almost positive London would be the first to drown.

All afternoon he had sat in this very chair staring out the window as the snow fell down around outside. His older sisters were both playing outside in the snow, having a snowball fight with just themselves. Relina and Arianna, although they achieved more than him far easier than him, were often overlooked.

After all, they refused to be chained down by their parents' silly wishes. Relina and Arianna were both aurors—a family tradition on his mother's side that skipped his mother—for she chose politics rather than the harsh, demanding life of an auror. After losing her brother—James' uncle—the will to carry on the Evans tradition died in fear. Fear was no problem for either of James' sisters however. In fact they once told him when he was younger before leaving for duty that they ate fear for breakfast. Both of them were successful on the field and they could die at any moment on the job.

They very much said so all the time just to rub it in.

_"You better be nice to us, Jamie, otherwise you may just regret it when we valiantly lose our lives protecting you," _or something akin to that was always heard.

Any normal person would find that a little sadistic in how they took 'guilt trips' to a whole new level; but then again his sisters were by no means normal. They were as loony as bats one second, then perfect and proper ladies the next. The thing about Relina and Arianna was that even though they were ultimately free of mother and father's chains, they still followed the proper etiquette not by force but by choice.

In other words, they were refined wild cards.

They were two years apart but you'd swear they were twins that they looked so similar to each other. James was so much younger than either of them he wondered if his parents planned out the intermediary years between when Relina was born to when he was born in order to plan out his life in every detail.

It wasn't until he realized they were not out in the front yard and he heard the door swing wide open did he glance over. Relina, with perfect aim, threw a snowball right in his face. Alicia yelped before hastily apologizing to whomever she was talking to on the phone and James fumed silently while Arianna just laughed. It was their favourite hobby to tease him and somehow they reminded him of Lily, which made him feel dread all over. If, by some insane chance he ended up spending the rest of his life with Lily… and having these two grown-up children as siblings…

Life would suddenly be a very scary place to be.

All he had been able to think about since being stuck in that tunnel with her was, well, Lily herself. He thought over everything about her—what made her so irritating, what made her so fascinating, what made her so loveable and most of all what made her the way she was. Out of all these questions and all this thinking he couldn't find any answers or any plausible reason to any of it. All he could come up with was that was just how she was. Insane.

Lily Evans was just that: Lily Evans.

"Excellent shot, Riri, you ought to be a marksman with an aim like that," Arianna remarked.

Relina simply grinned, kicking off her boots messily and walking right up to James, grabbing for his chin and shaking him from it. "Unnecessary credit. This boy's frown is so large it was like hitting the broad side of a barn." After kissing his head and ruffling his hair which James gave little protest to, other than a frown of dissatisfaction, Relina walked over to the stairs and up to her room to change, no doubt, for dinner.

"I'm borrowing that ivory dress for dinner, Anna, I hope you don't mind."

Arianna frowned at her sister's disappearing back, folding her arms. "Well of course I mind, I was going to wear that one."

Relina stopped and looked back at her sister. "Well, that's a shame then, isn't it?"

Arianna glared and followed after her sister up the stairs.

James sighed. Thank goodness that episode was over. They were like wicked and evil, both within sight of the other at all times and both just as dangerous and conniving as the other. Taking a napkin from his jacket pocket, he wiped the water and melted snow from his face and got up in attempt to salvage the couch. Someone had to and it wouldn't be Alicia—she was, once again, on the phone.

Sighing, James walked over to Alicia and took her hand lightly, kissing it. "I'm going to fix the damage they've caused me; I'll be upstairs if you need me for anything."

Alicia smiled at him warmly before turning her full attention back onto the phone as James headed up the stairs to his bedroom. Every stair he climbed, he slowly tugged away at his collar, loosening it little by little until it was completely undone. It wasn't until he was in his room, dressing into some normal clothing that he felt better—able to breathe.

How Alicia managed to wear that corset for so long absolutely dumbfounded him—it didn't look like any girl wearing it could be comfortable. Somehow she did though—perhaps because she was staying with James and his family this Christmas because hers were all away. Alicia made it a point to 'look fine and proper' so that James' parents didn't 'reconsider the marriage.' Of course, this was crazy talk since James parents couldn't think of anything but their little boy being married to a fine lady like Alicia Rose.

It was ironic that James could think of at least a million things he would rather do than that.

It was a political sort of marriage, he knew; one that he couldn't very well escape from very easily. When he thought about the choice being taken from him about whom he should marry, more and more he began to dislike everything about Alicia—for he saw her as the reason he couldn't just live his own life. Naturally, before he could cause any damage on this train of thought, the voice of reason always told him that it wasn't her fault and she was just a catalyst for larger, more twisted evils. Then again, when he thought of Lily… there honestly couldn't be a larger more twisted evil than her.

Primarily, it was his own fault for not being forceful enough—for not being enough like his sisters to break the chains that had surrounded him and suppressed him all his life. This feeling of constriction, he didn't like it at all—but at the same time he couldn't do anything but try not to suffocate. It was like being tied up in a room slowly being filled with water.

Slipping on a hat, he opened his window, pulling one leg out over the windowsill.

"Running away again are you? You'll be back by dinner, I hope."

It was always odd to hear her talk with such perfect tone, pitch and grammar. James was much more used to the Arianna that held nothing back in her speech. Both of his sisters talked like normal people did—like everyone should. James really had to wonder if it made you so much more refined to talk a certain way as opposed to another way. Rich society and the people living in it were just odd.

James turned and there stood Arianna, dressed as refined and proper as if her little snow escapade with Relina never happened. Even her tousled, messy hair looked clean and fresh as if all she had ever done all day was sit and look pretty as a picture to look at all day—just like a doll. James was a doll of another sort, he felt; only this one had strings attached and went by a much different name.

Sighing, he slipped his leg back inside as Arianna walked into his room without invitation. Arianna was the oldest out of all of them and she could play the little games of society better than the rest of them. This was because she had been brought ground up to be a perfect lady—a lady that would have been married to Matthew Whitfield by now if she didn't cut and destroy the chains of her own destiny bestowed by their controlling parents. If it weren't for Arianna hexing him every time on sight out of pure dislike and amusement they might've have been a match. A less than perfect one but a match nonetheless.

For Arianna's strong will there was none that could match. In fact, he found it very difficult to see her married to anyone. If so, he pitied that person _very_ much.

It was because she was the oldest that James found he was closest to her—for she had the hardest time growing up and breaking out of the mould their parents had set for her. Even when Relina was born most of their concentration was on Arianna. A majority of what they told Relina could be summed up in 'just look at your sister and how she does it.'

Little did they know that plot blew up in their faces worse than they could have imagined.

"How long have you known?" he asked, a little irritated that someone actually realized how he periodically ran away from home only to come back by dinner.

Arianna smiled, hitting him on the head with her matching blue fan. There was a string of pearls that tied her hair back and hung down elegantly, shining in the light. "Silly, Jamie, I know everything about my family. I know that you have never wanted to get married, much less to a doll—heaven bless Rose," she added quickly after. "I know Relina will get married before me and I know that you have been escaping before dinner only to come back _by_ dinner since you were nine. I am all-knowing, James, you can't hide _anything_ from _me_. Now, my puppy, what's got your knickers knocking on windows?" she asked, throwing an arm around him, pulling him away from the window as she plopped down on his bed with his head falling onto her lap awkwardly.

James sighed; heart-to-hearts with Arianna were always awkward and were always forced and grudgingly appreciated. Arianna believed that if force were not present in anything, nothing would get done and it would just be another game of politics. If there was one thing good about violence, it was that it made people make up their minds a heck of a lot faster. That was her belief and for the majority of her life it worked well for her depending on how it was used.

"Well… can you keep a secret?"

Arianna grinned evilly and a feeling of dread rose in his throat. "Oh? Has my little Jamie fallen for a pretty red fox?"

Bulls-eye.

James sighed miserably. Was he really so easy to read?

Arianna merely smiled and started to stroke his head. "Just tell them you don't want to get married to Rose if that's the case. I'm sure they'll understand—or at least be forced to understand. You're the only one who's saying the vows up at the altar come spring—no one can force you to say otherwise. Well, there are definitely ways—and I won't share them because all of them are _illegal._"

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to be soothed by Arianna petting his hair. Ever since he was a child it would always be his older sisters taking care of him when their parents were away. During those days he didn't have to see Alicia if he didn't want to and often he could just do whatever he wanted and could forget about doing anything according to his parents' wishes.

And whenever James would feel particularly down or upset, Arianna would always hug him and take him like this, laying his head down on her lap while she petted his hair like this. Whether he wanted to or not, he would always share with Arianna his frustrations. If James ever started crying, she would sit there and pet his hair until he fell asleep or felt better.

Relina gave him support in her own way, but never said anything—for she showed her affection through action alone rather than bunch them together in messy words. Whenever James cried, she had always gone out to town and bought him chocolate chip cookies no matter the time of year—years later she was no different.

Now that they were both full-time aurors, he didn't see either of them much at all. The only good that came out of that was that he was able to outgrow his 'sister complex' that he was sadly and pathetically so aware of.

Most of the time anyway.

To say that he got the harsh end of the stick when it came to the boys teasing him—that would be so far from the truth you would have to hop to a different continent to even see it.

"If you like, I can talk to them—"

"No, I should be the one to do that," he said, cutting her off. "If I can't do that myself at least, then I have no right." For all his life, Arianna had not only fought for her and her sister's freedom, but for James' as well. Their parents were good parents, they just wanted too much out of their kids—they wanted to live another life through their kids.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see her wipe away an imaginary tear. "My little Jamie has grown up. You're no longer my puppy anymore, but that makes you a dog then, doesn't it?" James sighed exasperatedly. "So, tell me, are you running off to the park as usual, or are you going to see your cute little fox?" she added with a wink.

James bolted straight up. "She could hear!" he whispered fiercely, pointing down through the floor vaguely at Alicia.

Arianna was smiling but there was an amusement that lit her face all over. "James, don't worry, I've spelled the room—auror interrogation style. No one can hear us. Relina has gone to get your favourite; she'll be back by dinner as well. So, what is this girl like, I want to be able to recognize a home wrecker when I see her."

Opening his mouth in protest he closed it shut realizing that was almost a too perfect description of Lily in this situation at her best. Sighing, he laid his head back down on his sister's lap and she continued to pet him. Now that he thought of it, his hair had probably gotten so used to getting messy like this that it just decided to permanently stay messy rather than go through all the trouble of staying tidy.

"Actually… she's very similar to you."

Arianna cackled in laughter. "You know, they say," she started, barely containing herself, "that boys will marry girls like their mothers and girls will marry like their fathers. I guess 'older sister' is appropriate in this case with your complex and all."

That complex is entirely your fault.

Yours!

Entirely!

James stayed silent but glared his disapproval.

Arianna gave an innocent smile. "So, she's like me, is she? Well, you can't go wrong there. Have you kissed her then?"

James' eyes widened and his face turned red. "Anna! What about Alicia?"

Shrugging, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Well of course Rose doesn't know. That bloody doll is too busy chatting to everyone in Britain who makes more than six figures a year and inviting them to the wedding. I can't make it to the wedding, you know, Riri and I have an assignment in Bosnia that we need to head out to a month before then. We'll be resting at home until March and be off by April. So, my question again, have you kissed her yet?"

Groaning, James turned to look up at her. "You're insufferable. And… I… yes, I have, but it didn't really… turn out great. Or the way I thought it would be."

Arianna's eyebrows rose. "A one-sided love it is, is it? A shame. What did you do? Suffocate her? Step on her foot? Try to eat her alive?"

Giving her another exasperated sigh, James frowned. "It was a normal kiss! She just… it didn't turn out because right after she pretended it never happened. Said a lot about rabbits and foxes and holes and then a week later it was time for the holiday break and I haven't talked to her since. I think she actually lives around the park because I met her there just this past summer. She always calls me a duck like you call me a puppy and Relina a kitten."

Laughing, Arianna sighed and shook her head. "I like this girl, James, I approve," she said while holding a thumbs up sign for him. "Well, get up; go see your woman then. You said she lives by the park, right? I can only assume that's where you've been going, as usual, in order to see her again. As for that kiss and her ignoring it, I'm almost certain there's more to it than that. Above all you're a boy, James, you don't know what a woman wants as well as a woman. Heaven help you if you ever do, I actually might have to disown you entirely if that ever happens."

Standing up, Arianna gave him another tap on the head with her fan and put her hands on her hips. Relina had probably stolen her ivory dress to her room and so Arianna was wearing her blue one to dinner instead. Despite the rough treatment she put both Relina and himself through, deep down she really just loved them both.

James looked away guiltily. "I'm not running off to see her. I doubt that I will. See her I mean. In fact, I don't know what I would do if I did."

Smiling, his sister tousled his hair once more and shrugged. "You're the boy. If I were her I'd want you to show how much you _really_ care for me. You are engaged to that one downstairs after all, it's no secret at school. Just make sure you're back by dinner or there'll be hell to pay," she added before closing the door behind her.

With another sigh, he looked back out his window and once again started to climb outside, hopping on various ledges until he was able to jump the last few feet to the ground. As he landed he tripped on the ice below and fell over. Groaning, he stood up and made his way over to the park, nursing a probably bruised bottom.

The streets of town were busy as ever, filled with people doing some last minute Christmas shopping. As he glanced at one particular store he saw a redhead. Shaking his head, James chastised himself. Not every redhead he saw was Lily. There was next to no chance Lily would be here. Of all people Lily was the one that was most likely to be at home enjoying the Christmas season with her family. It was what James should be doing and yet he wasn't. In fact he had very little reason to escape the house this time since his parents had to suddenly leave and would be unable to make dinner tonight.

James just wanted to get away from Alicia.

Well, perhaps that was a reason after all.

It was a rather mean reason, but those were the grounds on why he didn't tell anyone.

As he passed through the park where they first met each other, he walked through the streets of town like a tourist, looking at all the sales and all the new shops that had opened in the few short months he had been gone for school at Hogwarts. James felt like a tourist every time he came home because everything changed so drastically sometimes that he often got lost.

Passing by a toy store, he habitually glanced inside—as he did with every open doorway he passed by—and stopped dead in his tracks. Eyes widening he paled. In that toy store was none other that Lily Evans herself with none other than Relina Potter carrying a bag of some of James' most prized desires and possessions. The Chocolate chip cookies that were made by Roy at Roy's Coco-Chip on the corner of the square were some of the best cookies that James had ever had. Relina was a frequent customer there and Roy knew both James and Relina on sight and by name.

Standing there, feeling ever more the stalker, he saw Relina turn around, take notice, and wave at him. As she tapped Lily on the shoulder and pointed at him, James panicked and darted out of sight. Sighing, he decided miserably that fate was sorely out to get him—in fact everything in the world right now was out to get him including the weather for his bottom was still a little sore.

Peeking back inside, but out of view, he saw that Lily was holding a stuffed duck and talking rather animatedly with his sister. It was only a few seconds later did Lily part ways with Relina to the counter while Relina herself picked up a puppy dog, kitten and lion. Just from looking at her selection he could easily guess who they were all for.

It wasn't until Relina came out of the store did James call out to his sister.

"Relina!"

Relina turned to him and smiled. "Well, aren't you quite the stalker; peeking in casually like that, spying on me. That's alright, little pup, as long as you're still family you can stalk me as much as you like. Bosnia will be problematic for you though. Or perhaps you were stalking that cute girl I was talking to a moment ago? Quite the looker, isn't she? Makes you want to forget all about that stuffy fiancée of yours."

James pursed his lips felt frustration brim his temple. If there was one trait that both his sisters ever possessed together and possessed well was hitting the nail right on the head at random.

"That's too bad she has someone in mind already. That duck wasn't just for her, I don't think. Say… she wouldn't happen to be that little fox Arianna was mentioning?" she said with an evil look, avoiding his eyes. James' eyes widened and Relina laughed. "Bulls-eye! Am I right? Am I right? Oh, she is, isn't she! James she's adorable!" she cooed, holding a hand over her heart. "I absolutely love her! Marry her instead! You've my approval. And Anna's."

James sighed. Opening his mouth to say something the words died in his throat as Lily stepped outside. Stopping dead in her tracks, she looked from James to Relina and back again. As she stared from one to another, a grin cracked on her face.

"Siblings, am I right?" Bingo. "Well, James, even your older sister seems younger than you. My, what _do_ your parents feed this poor boy?" she asked, looking to Relina.

Relina laughed at her joke. "Lily, you absolutely must come for dinner! Such a pleasure to see one of James' friends other than Sirius drop by. He's been flirting like the devil with me since we've met. Do you know he sends me letters, James? Tell him to stop that will you? The captain doesn't like it."

James looked in horror from the both of them. Their parents would be away for dinner and Relina knew that—partially why she probably was even offering. Arianna would have a riot about this and Relina would endlessly massacre James' conscience over it. Part of his hesitation was that he knew Alicia would be there and she would be unimpressed and that both of his sisters would encourage the twisted relationship that was awkwardly blooming between Lily and their little brother.

In other words, if Lily came to dinner, all hell would break loose and probably chew him alive and spit him out in acid.

Relina looked from the both of them, at Lily's minor hesitation and at James' pure shock at the thought of having Lily over. Smiling, she took James' hand, Lily's hand, and put them together, clasping James' hand to Lily's.

"Think it over, darling, none of us bite. James' little lady will be there so have no worry, you won't be completely alone," she added as an afterthought. In the most unlikely of cases, they could be friends, was what Relina was probably thinking. Even as Relina turned on her heel and started to head home, James glanced over at Lily who was looking at him slyly before she unclasped their hands and followed after Relina.

James knew better though and he could see exactly what would happen at dinner if Lily were to come. Sighing, he started to follow suit miserably accepting the inevitable horror to come. Somehow he didn't think Lily would be humane enough to avoid this golden opportunity to make James miserable and feel foolish—not that _she_ needed to try hard. James felt foolish every time he laid eyes on her as his legs melted away to nothing and his brain overheated.

Even as he followed behind them both, just watching the two of them talk, he was reminded in the back of his mind of how much his sisters really truly didn't get along well with Alicia. In fact, Arianna once let it slip how miserable she would be to visit her 'darling little brother' after the marriage—knowing that Alicia Rose would, by then, be her sister-in-law.

Somehow James couldn't blame her for selfishly looking at her situation in the marriage first.

"I think dinner sounds lovely."

James looked up from his own reflecting misery and looked at the two of them. Relina looked pleased—which was never a good thing—and Lily looked happy—which was absolutely a bad thing. Something about this situation and what he just heard didn't calculate very well in his mind. There was something horribly wrong about the conclusion his brain kept giving him.

Relina grinned. "Excellent, I'll make roast duck."

Lily smiled back. "I love duck."

* * *

To My Reviewers:

T.T You're all so wonderful and nice and kind that I'm lost for words! Really, I wish I had time to respond to you all and express a personal thanks, but... alas... I have no time to do so. I can always take away time from writing "Your Choice of Flower" to do that--but who'd want me to do that now, right? wink

Sigh. No word on my poor reliable--but recently unreliable--computer.

Comments:

T.T I SUPER fail... This chapter disappoints me. The way this story is going saddens me immensely.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.

And an overdose of Calcium.


	11. Awkward Mishaps

Chapter Eleven: Awkward Mishaps

The clock chimed seven and James shivered, those were the longest strokes he had ever heard that old grandfather clock chime. They were long, painful and were the precursor to a Potter family tradition that had not been broken for as long as a Potter had ever drawn breath. The old grandfather clock served as a bell and tardiness was unacceptable—which is why everyone had made a habit to make it to the table by quarter to in order be there on time. For some unknown, unexplainable reason, dinner time was sacred in this family.

James, however, had very little else to do than be _at_ the dinner table, making sure that their guest behaved themselves accordingly to a normal, civilized being rather than the maelstrom of danger that threw up every alarm bell at maximum strength in his head so much that it gave him a headache.

At least, that was what he had thought in the beginning.

Clearly, he was underestimating the intentions of everyone else present.

"And when James was six he cried so hard the night Anna left for school that he wouldn't stop knocking on my door until I let him in so he could sleep with me!"

Gritting his teeth, James silently endured the ridicule, telling himself over and over that this was a bad dream and that it would all go away once he woke up the next morning. It must have been a bad dream for Lily was sitting on his right and Alicia was sitting on his left while James fumed in the middle.

How ironic.

Sitting across from them were his two older sisters who were grinning from ear to ear like a pair of Cheshire cats and laughing their heads off in a mood that didn't fit their look of refined young ladies. In fact, Relina had even changed out of the dress at the last second and wore plain, casual clothing. Throughout their tirade Alicia had calmly listened and Lily had merely joined in with the cacophony of laughter—but not properly adding to the chaos.

At least it went to show that she had _some_ form of discipline somewhere in that head of hers.

Humiliation could not have had a dearer meaning to James than now.

"Oh, that reminds me, Riri, Jamie always carried around this dirty rag of a blanket up until he was five didn't he?" she asked, holding a finger to her chin in thought.

Relina nodded furiously. "Oh yeah, I remember that! What did he name that thing… Joe or something like that. Really now, a blanket? Of all things? Especially when he has two _gorgeous_ auror _sisters_ to chase the monsters out from under his bed! Oh, Jamie, you were _so_ adorable as a child. You have to wonder what happened over the years," she said sadly with a sigh.

Anna winked at Alicia. "Oh, but we don't need to wonder, we already _know_. The elegant and charming Alicia Rose is what happened. One look and he was smitten so bad that he vowed to be a better—"

"—more dashing—"

"—more responsible—"

"—and much more charming—"

"—man, not boy. Venus has her eye on you, I'd watch out if I were in your shoes. And of course to the lucky lady," Arianna added with a wink in Alicia's direction. Alicia blushed slightly but kept her eyes lowered submissively—not daring to look at anyone.

Relina made a gun with her fist and pointed it at James, winking. "Bang!" she said as she pretended to shoot him.

James rose from his seat immediately, making the chair screech on the marble floor. "You two are like children, you know that!?" he exclaimed exasperatedly—angrily. Even as he was standing up he felt the humiliation of all eyes being on him—or rather on his bright red face—and he pushed his chair out to leave dinner early. Knowing that he was already up and had created a scene, he didn't have the humbleness or lack of ego to simply back down and sit back down in his seat, so he instead excused himself and headed towards his room.

No, no, no, after going this far it was only right, proper and fair that he continued; finishing the ugly thing he started.

Relina and Anna didn't look so much nonplussed as they looked pleased—as if this were all orchestrated to suit their evil twin desires in order to make his life as miserable as they could. Even as he glanced back over at the table, Arianna winked at him while Relina waved. Alicia looked like she was about to die of embarrassment right there and Lily sat there with her chin resting over bridged hands, following him with her eyes like a cat with a sinister smile over her lips—as if it were all her doing that this was happening.

How manipulative.

What a devious, deviant of a woman.

It was unfathomable how _she_ could be the one to make his head spin circles and his heart scream bloody murder because cupid had shot it so many times.

It was unfair. Lily was every bit a dangerous being that not just he should stay away from, but everyone else. Her actions were unexplainable other than the reason being for the complete and utter detriment of the other person. There must be something wrong with him if he thought that he loved her. Perhaps he needed brain surgery, perhaps he was sick in the head, or maybe it was a case of losing his common sense.

Definitely.

That must be it.

Surely he was mistaken in being in love with her.

James glanced back at her quickly, at that cat-like, sinister stare.

So why could he only feel his face overheat suddenly when he looked at her!?

Swivelling his head back around, he took a few shaky steps before calming down and making his way properly up to his bedroom.

James was furious at his sisters—more than he should have been—more than he knew he should have been. Even so, he could hear his thundering footsteps scaling the stairs to his bedroom. Throwing his bedroom door open, he stepped in and slammed the door shut behind him. Breathing long and hard, he eventually calmed down and sighed, slumping to the floor of his bedroom.

For the past seventy-two hours he had wanted Alicia to be the right choice—to be the sensible choice even as he saw Lily perfectly mingle with his family with no pretence, with not even a fake smile. Lily was just that, Lily was Lily. For the past couple days, dinner had been a three way conversation between his parents and Alicia—his eldest sisters often finishing at the same time and as quickly as possible in order to leave the table.

It was no secret that they both were ashamed to be daughters of parents like them.

A mother who threw away family tradition.

A father that cared only about status.

To both of them there was no greater shame than their roots.

It was unspoken, however.

Unmentioned.

Forbidden ground.

Because of that they couldn't stand being in the same room, much less same table as them. That much he understood of their feelings towards their parents.

The only reason James was not able to leave himself was that Alicia was there always sitting beside him, smiling like the doll she was at them. It made them believe that their choice was more correct than ever—every time Alicia flashed them that perfect beauty pageant winning smile. Every time she spoke to them they were charmed by her in the same way her parents were charmed with him every time he spoke to them.

This time in particular she seemed a little more energetic, a little more… Lily almost. It was horrifying to think about Alicia becoming Lily, but he had to admit that an even combination of both of them would be perfect. This change had charmed his parents, the lie she spun so well, so easily, so masterfully—like a black widow. It only made him sick. What happened to the Alicia that didn't need Lily's charms to win over his parents into their own idiotic self-glorified delusions? Somewhere she disappeared and, odd enough though it was true, he didn't quite know Alicia well enough to say anything about it.

_Stop acting like Lily,_ you could imagine, was not something that went well when talking to anyone. To be perfectly honest James would probably admit himself to the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo's should anyone ever tell him something as horrific as that. Especially after the last time Alicia mentioned Lily, it probably wouldn't have been the best idea.

_...you had decided to break the marriage to be with Lily._

Even now, he could still hear her words echoing in his head, ringing clear as a bell. James felt like too much of a pansy to break a girl's heart like that. How Sirius managed to do it so easily and rather successfully was beyond him. Breaking a heart was as grave a sin as it was to kill a king. Both were horrible things and both were equally horrible.

For while death was permanent, living with a broken heart was just as bad and hard to fix.

Sighing, he picked himself up off the ground and headed over to his bed, sitting down on it. It was just today that Arianna had laid his head down on her lap and forced his feelings out of him—forced him to accept a few truths about himself even if he was being goaded into doing so. Still, even with that, he wanted to forget all about Lily and how she unwittingly changed his entire life—made him think about things he had never thought about before.

Freedom.

It tasted so sweet. How old was Arianna when she first tasted it and fought so desperately for it? Fought with every ounce of strength she had. What an incredible will. James couldn't do what Arianna did—he didn't have the strength or the will to do it. When was it that Relina had breathed in its sweet fragrance and picked the lock to her cage?

What was so much different about his sisters than he? What did they have that he didn't?

Laying down on his bed, he stared up at his ceiling and looked around at his walls. They were plain, ordinary and rather dull. The only identifying mark that this was his room was the nameplate on the door—otherwise this could have been a guest room. Alicia's room was furnished a little more feminine and he had only looked inside once when he was a child. That earned him the loss of dinner for an unmarried gentleman didn't enter a lady's room under any condition.

There was a knock at his door and James instinctively glanced at his window where he could have so easily jumped out and gone out for a walk to clear his head—to escape everything at home. Sighing, knowing that it was probably Arianna, he got up and opened the door, looking away not wanting to see the displeasure in his sister's face at the terrible scene he had just made during dinner.

"Well, don't you already look like a scolded little boy?"

James turned and his eyes widened for there was Lily Evans, standing at his door. "What in the bloody hell are _you_ doing here?" he spat out without thinking.

Lily frowned—clearly offended but clearly deciding to say so. "I seem to recall that I was invited over. Have no fear; your darling wife had just 'remembered' that she needed to take care of something back home and left in quite a hurry once it was just us four. Called her poor driver and booted it out as fast as possible. Quite the unpleasant company, wouldn't you say? Can't even stay for some chit-chat. At any rate, your sisters didn't seem too concerned about you and told me to go check up on you. Heaven knows why," she said, sounding and looking irritated at having to do so.

"And you listened to them?" he asked incredulously.

Lily smiled slyly and when he saw this he thought she resembled a fox in every way right now. There was always something about Lily that was entrancing when she smiled like that and… perhaps a little frightening. Although James couldn't pinpoint what it was, it was definitely something that caught you and reeled you in for all you were worth. It was a cold, yet intoxicating smile—like drinking lukewarm poison on a cold winter day.

"Always listen to what your elders have to say. So, are you going to invite me in or are we going to chat like strangers here at your door? Do I need to knock twice?" she asked, raising an eyebrow—that smile never disappearing.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, James opened his door wider and stepped aside to let her in. Lily walked in, clasping her hands behind her back, staring around at his plain walls and plain furnishings. Upon sighting the bed, she went over and sat down. Smiling at him like a nice, innocent girl, she patted the space next to her.

This girl was anything but nice and innocent, he thought bitterly. In fact, if you looked closely enough he was almost certain you could spot the wings, horns and tail growing out of her. If Lily Evans were not a devil herself she was certainly the spawn of one. The very demeanour she set off now reminded him ruefully of a wolf in sheep's clothing, grinning ear to ear at the lamb that just set itself on a platter before it.

"I'm fine here, thanks," he replied dully.

Lily shrugged her shoulders and lay down on his bed. _Don't go lying down on other peoples' beds,_ he thought as he glared at her, folding his arms. Somehow, seeing her laying on his bed he felt that he had avoided a situation that could have turned out very badly.

"Why do you think it's always so cold in winter?" she suddenly asked.

James stared at her for a few moments and sighed, walking over to the end of his bed and sitting as far away from her as possible. "It's because of the rotation of the earth and gravity and the fact that you're on the wrong side of the sun to see it. That's why it's always cold in winter."

"That's not what I meant," she said simply.

James turned around to glare at her. "Then what exactly did you mean by that then?"

"I think it's because the sun wants us to survive on our own for a while. That we might miss her until summer comes. I think it's because she wants us to get closer as people to each other. To take care of each other," she said, answering her own question and ignoring his.

Turning back around, he sat there, silently, deciding that he would not talk about stupid things like this to Lily Evans of all people. Conversations like this were pointless and only used to pass time. Then again, what else was he going to do until he decided to stop being angry at his older sisters? Right now, he decided, he would have been in a worse mood if Arianna had come rather than Lily—Lily, for once, was not the culprit of making his life miserable.

No, this time she was merely the catalyst.

Suddenly, James felt Lily snake her arms around his neck and hung them down around his shoulders loosely as she rested her chin on his shoulder. "It wants to bring people closer… to keep warm. Your room must get awfully chilly at night, Jamie."

Pursing his lips, not knowing whether he wanted to throw her off him or turn around and kiss her face off, he sat there, still as a statue while he felt his pulse quicken at the so very direct contact while all his senses went on high alert. Only Lily would do something like this, he knew. There was no particular reason for it; it wasn't just James she would do this to. When he watched her in the classroom she would do this to other girls as well—but only for a moment—even as it looked like she disliked having to part.

"I think you might have been a siren in a past life," he said plainly, thinking this was just like how a siren would sing to lull men to their deaths. Lily was quite like a double-edged sword or a water lily in the middle of a pond that tempted you to go over and pick it only to realize that it was floating over the deepest part of the pond and you found yourself drowning before you could reach out and touch it.

Lifting a finger, she poked his cheek. "You're so sweet, just like honey. You know, I rather prefer the cold to heat," she said suddenly, slipping her arms off him and getting up and walking over to the window, opening it up and letting cold air in even as James winced at the sting of winter. "When you're cold like this at least you can't tell after a while and the fire becomes much more inviting. I would rather freeze to my death than burn—at least you can't feel anything then. You can't feel yourself dying."

As James watched her, he saw her face settle into a melancholic expression as the light winter breeze blew her hair back—he could even see the hairs on her neck rise. Seeing her, standing at the window like that, he couldn't help but wonder why she looked so lonely standing there, in his bedroom by his window when she must have hundreds of people who love her back home, a loving family to go back to and even friends other than him to be celebrating the season with.

At this point in time, he wasn't sure if he should say anything or not—whether he was supposed to say something or not. It was here that he couldn't help but think that if Lily had ever shed tears, the world in general was not privy to them. In fact, this world was not allowed anything that Lily did not will it to.

Just how long it had been like that James didn't know.

Only moments later there was a flutter at the window and an owl landed on the ledge of his window, carrying a letter in its beak. Petting the owl under its chin gently, Lily took the letter and the owl flew off. There was a red seal on the flap of the envelope saying it was from the Ministry. His name was in gold print on the front in beautiful cursive writing. Turning it over in her hands, looking at the back and front, Lily walked over and held it out to him.

"It's from the Ministry; looks important."

Just as James reached out to take it from her she pulled it back out of his reach and smiled, placing the edge of the letter on her lips, hiding her smile.

Sighing, James glared at her. "Lily…"

Without another word, Lily ripped the letter open from its side and pulled the letter out, dropping the envelope on the ground—for him to pick up later, he thought ruefully.

"Crimson print, how odd, letters are usually in black because they don't want to waste red ink…"

Lily's eyes scanned the letter quickly and they widened in what seemed to be horror. Dropping the letter to the ground, she stared at it like it was about to eat her and she took an involuntary step back, eyes wild like green fire. As they darted everywhere around the room even as she backed herself up against the wall beside the window, she gasped as she hit the wall, placing both hands on it palm down, sliding her hands over the wall as if not believing that was all there was to her escape route. Her breath started to come in short, uneven breaths and it looked like she might suffocate at any second.

Blinking, James stepped forward and placed both hands on her shoulders, steadying her—worry creasing his brow. "What's wrong, Lily? What did that letter say?"

Lily's eyes still darted around until they settled to a spot on his chest, as if she were looking through him like he was transparent, at the letter on the ground. "Tragedies mirror each other… they always do."

In the next second she threw her arms around him, one hand on the back of his head while the other attempted to encircle him around his middle. In the shock of it all they fell over on the ground and James yelped as they landed, especially since he was breaking the fall for two. Lily had placed the side of her head against his chest, right where his heart was.

"It's okay, James… everything will be fine. You'll be okay. There's nothing to worry about. You… don't have to cry," she said in a soothing, shaking voice.

James frowned, not understanding her words. "What are you—"

"Shh. It's okay. Everything will be fine. I'm here so you don't have to worry," she said, stroking whatever part of his head she was able to stroke. Even as she said this, when James looked down at her, she was crying, there were tears running from her eyes even though her voice was as calmer as if she weren't. "There's nothing to fear… I won't let fear get you. You won't have to cry. Everything… will be okay," she said so quietly that he almost didn't hear her.

Still not understanding everything, James glanced over at the letter still on the ground. Everything had gone haywire since that letter arrived and Lily tore it open without thinking a single thought to his privacy—as usual. James thought bitterly that this wouldn't have happened if she had just left well enough alone—although he found thoughts like that rather mean when he looked at her like this, eyes wide, staring and weeping.

Reaching over he tried to grab the letter but Lily was quicker than him and snatched it up, tearing it in two even as she scrambled off him. Once she found her balance she commenced ripping the two halves into more and more halves.

A small part of his brain wanted to yell at her for her psychotic actions while another part of him wanted her to just calm down. Deep down inside, he could feel something pinch his heart when he saw her crying in shock like that—like a little girl who just wanted her mother.

Lily shook her head at him as he got to his feet. "Lily, come on, what's the matter? You can tell me. I won't bite."

Lily continued to shake her head, holding the shreds of paper in her hands behind her back, smiling her usual smile as if nothing had ever happened even though tears were still coming down her eyes. "Everything will be okay, James, you don't have to worry about anything. You don't have to cry."

James stepped right up to her and wiped a tear away from her face. "The only one crying is you."

In the next few seconds James heard thunder run up the steps. Arianna had burst through the door, her makeup smudged and her eyes wild. "James!" she called out. Looking from one to another she started crying as well. "Oh, James… I'm… I'm so sorry…" she whispered hoarsely—as if her voice couldn't bear the weight.

Frowning, he looked away from Lily and turned to his sister. "What's the matter with you two? A little letter comes in through the mail, Lily turns into a lunatic on me and you're just as psycho as she is. What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

Arianna's eyes widened. As she looked at the pieces of paper on the ground and looked to Lily her eyes softened in understanding. "It's alright, darling, he's not a boy. Our Jamie can handle himself, love."

Lily didn't move and James turned to her, placing both hands on her shoulders. Worry started to set in as he felt like something the size of an industrial carrier passed over his head without a sound. Tears continued to fall from her face and James carefully put his arms around her comfortingly, hugging her to his chest. Turning to his sister, he gave her an enquiring look.

Moments after Relina came up the stairs, her face clean of any makeup and worry dotting her brow. "James, Anna… Lily…" she said upon seeing James hugging Lily. Smiling weakly she looked away. "At least Alicia's not here to see this, we don't need more tragedy hanging over our heads."

James blinked. "Tragedy?"

Before Relina could say anything, Arianna stepped forward, a calm stoic face of control over her despite the mess it looked. "Relina, take Lily to the guest room so she can calm down a bit. Contact her parents if you can, I think it best she stays the night, seeing it's so late. Apologize to them for abducting their daughter while you're at it. James, you and I will have a little chat."

Without a word or question, Relina stepped around Arianna and took Lily from James, putting her arm around her shoulders and leading her out of the room most likely to the guest quarters. Once they were alone, Arianna closed the door and brought her wand out, casting the usual silencing charm she would barricade his room with in order for privacy.

Sitting down on his bedside, she patted the space next to her for him to sit. Without hesitation, James did so—for any span of time where Arianna called Relina by her actual name was a time where you shut your mouth and listened and did what she told you.

"That letter… was to inform all three of us that Mister and Misses Potter have died in an unfortunate incident at the hands of known Death Eaters."

* * *

To My Reviewers:

SparklingSilverStars: Typos. Haha... lol, yeah. That's what I get for proofreading my work at like 3AM. I just noticed it when you mentioned it too. I normally catch those things :P

Vapid Philosophy: Yeah, I know what you mean about the wording. Once again, 3AM. Haha. T.T

So, drum roll please... GUESS WHO'S GOT HER PC BACK! Upgraded and better than ever. I have wells of memory everywhere, upgraded everything, even have newer versions of photoshop on here. Cough Anyway, enough about me fawning and drooling over my newly improved and repaired system. I'm sure my computer issues are not much of a concern to you guys. Also, another update in my life is that I will have Midterms approaching, thus my time for pretty much anything will be sucked up indefinitely. Love you all so much, and I thank you all for such astounding patience. Honestly, if it were me and this was someone else's story I'd be like "Eh... let's go do something else and never come back."

That was long. I apologize.

Comments:

You're right, James, it is a tragedy. In fact, this entire story is a tragedy to me. HOW ON EARTH DO I ALWAYS GET STUCK IN THIS LOOP!? I must make pains to make sure the next one does not happen like this... but... but... it's just so...

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens--back from 'No PC Land'


	12. Key

Chapter Twelve: Key

"Who will look after the estate now, Anna?" Relina asked quietly, staring down at her clasped hands, sitting between them.

Once again, Arianna didn't respond to the question; merely staring out the window of the car, her face set and frigid, resting her chin upon the knuckles of her right hand while the other held the handle to her purse loosely. It had been like this ever since the funeral preparations had started and ended—today with the actual funeral.

None of them were in the mood for anything right now, but James knew Relina was only trying to make things better by conversation—any kind of conversation. James had seen Arianna cry before, and he had even seen his mother and father cry once or twice—but he had never seen Relina shed a single tear ever. He had never even seen her tear up. Whether her heart was frozen in ice or she simply refused he could never imagine.

Frowning, Relina turned her head to look at her older sister. "You and I are both aurors and James is too young. What will we do? There's… so much work in it all…" Relina trailed off.

After that, the ride to the Potter estate was silent, no one wanted to talk and everyone was in a dark mood. It was only when the car stopped and the driver turned off the engine was the silence dispelled, if only for a moment.

"Shall I park the car, madam?" the driver asked formally, as carefully as possible. Even while the engine was turned off and they were in front of their house no one moved or said a word.

Relina looked up at the question and smiled, looking from James to Arianna. "Yes, of course. Come on James, Anna," Relina said, pulling the door on James' side open and prodding him to get up while she pulled Arianna out of the car with great effort. Arianna moved along like a doll and they all stood outside as Relina closed the door and the driver started up the car again and pulled away. Taking both their hands in hers, she led them back to the doors of their mansion, taking the initiative.

As James felt her cold touch lead him away, he couldn't help but think back to what Lily had said about dying. Did his parents die warm or did they die in the freezing cold? Was it instantly or did they have to suffer? Did the ones responsible get punished or were they still loose out there able to kill other people's parents?

When he thought about all this, he decided that he definitely wanted to die in the unfeeling cold. When it was put the way Lily had put it, it sounded rather attractive an option.

Once they were inside and heat warmed them up once again, they all took off their coats and filed into the dining room and sat down at one end of the table, Arianna sitting at the head. There was no time to mourn, to grieve—that had to come later. For now, there was work and there was much of it to be done and no one knew that better than Arianna.

"James," she said suddenly, stirring James out of his dark reflection, "What will you do about your engagement? Will you still marry Alicia Rose?" she asked, her hazel eyes entrapping him in their cold, formal stare. Arianna was one of the best interrogators that the wizarding world had ever seen and her keen eyes left no stone unturned—thus when a lie was uttered, she would know it. Even now, although he was certain she didn't mean to, those cold hazel eyes of hers seemed to test him for anything false.

Despite the wording, he knew what his sister was asking. _Will you stay in your cage or will you leave it?_ Now that he saw it that way, James saw this, ultimately, as a way out. A 'get out of jail free' card. A key—a simple, easy way out. Without his parents to polish his cage lock every day, it would rust and rot away slowly. If he didn't leave now he never would, and he knew that. Though he could fight for freedom against the cage his parents put him in, he could not possibly escape the mantle of responsibility they had left behind if he had chosen to take it up.

Even as his gaze was caught by his sister's, it still managed to escape and settle down to the empty space on the table in front of him. When his thoughts travelled to Alicia, he decided that he would rather kill a king than do what he was going to do to her. When his thoughts went the opposite direction to Lily, he couldn't help but feel that she had spent too much time alone to accept the company of others easily. In the midst of all that, he felt like he was caught in the middle.

Even so, James wanted to make sure it was his decision on whom he would marry or if he should marry at all.

"I'll have it cancelled," he said simply, not wanting to divulge in anything more than that at the moment.

Arianna held her gaze upon him for a moment longer until he felt her gaze leave him as she nodded. "Very well, you and I will make the arrangements. Relina, what do you plan to do?"

James could see Relina look up at her sister once more, a heated debate going under the surface of her eyes. It was clear to him that she had thought about her future and what she should do ever since they got that letter two days ago. There was turmoil and indecision bubbling beneath that calm surface that didn't betray anything. It was here that James thought that Relina looked more like a refined and properly born and raised lady than anyone he had ever seen at this exact moment.

"I'm obliged to help with family matters. I'm sure Kingston will understand to halt my studies until further notice. I'm not quite a full-fledged auror just yet. And you?"

Arianna had been on the field for over a year since her studies finished at Kingston and Relina had another year to go once this one was done. Because of Arianna she was able to do a bit of work on the field before her studies were completed. Arianna had become quite a valued member of the auror society for her courage and hard work—thus she had garnered herself respect and admiration out of many of her colleagues.

Closing her eyes, Arianna sighed. "I… have no choice but to pick up where mother and father left off, at least until everything is stable. Are you both okay if we keep the estate under the Potter name until we can split it three ways?"

Relina looked away. The thought of splitting anything up was terrifying to her. It wasn't just her, it was James too. He knew the horrors of a broken up family and the thought of splitting anything terrified him—it meant that his life had changed forever whether he wanted it to or not. It was not until this moment that Arianna brought up splitting the estate that he realized that he was, in reality, one of three heirs to a rather large estate in Britain not just in the wizarding world but in the muggle one as well. How his parents managed to keep up with the affairs of both was extraordinary.

"Do we have to split it up? I'm fine with just this, as it is," he said.

Arianna closed her eyes for a moment, opening them to show the fatigue of the last three days wearing down on her. "We could. However, once we all marry, things will have to change whether we like it or not. We are family but we won't be 'together forever.' That kind of thinking is foolish and irrational," she said rather cuttingly—so very unlike her.

Those last comments slit James throat like a knife and he could feel the pain of reality bleed in. Although he knew that staying together as a family forever was impossible, to hear it put so bluntly and so rationally was painful—especially when it came from someone he loved, admired and respected wholly like Arianna. The charisma that Arianna portrayed was what earned her the position of being a first class auror—responsible for her own small group on the mission field.

Sighing, James got to his feet and left the table. "Excuse me; I'm tired from all of this. I'll be in my room if you need me for anything else."

Arianna nodded and continued to sit there while Relina didn't move either. It wasn't until his foot had landed on the first step did Arianna say anything else.

"Oh, and Jamie, check up on your darling little fox, won't you? Hasn't left her room since we brought her to it. I'm actually kind of worried about her," she said, flashing him a smile as if this whole dark ordeal had never happened.

James glared at her but ignored the fox comment and nodded his assent and continued upstairs. Once he was up, he knocked on her door and, with no answer, he announced his entry and walked inside the guest room to find Lily's window thrown wide open with her casually leaning against the window frame staring outside. Pulling his jacket around him closer, he closed one half of the window and sighed as she turned to look at him.

The Lily that was sitting here now, he had no clue of. When Relina had gotten off the phone with her family she simply gave a sad smile and shook her head saying that Lily would be staying with them until she decided to leave. Although James hadn't really understood what had happened, he was almost certain that it was something Lily didn't want to talk about.

The Lily sitting here now, in his guest room was just a normal girl, with normal green eyes and a normal face. Everything enchanting about her had disappeared when she stared at him, unsmiling like that, her eyes searching his and asking what the bloody hell he wanted by being in her room.

"Not crying anymore?" she asked simply, sounding much like herself.

James half-smiled at her. Once Arianna had delivered the news to him he had remained like a statue for a moment in shock of it all before he burst into tears and cried for what seemed like forever in Arianna's lap. Without even remembering what happened next after that, he woke up the next morning only to remember what happened and cried a little more. The day of the funeral he didn't have any more tears left to shed.

Their rooms were close to each other, it wasn't a wonder that she could hear him.

James pulled the desk chair out and sat in it, draping his arms over the back and leaning his chin on the backrest. When he looked back up at her, he found she was once again staring back outside the window at the overcast winter sky. Not once in his life he ever thought he would see Lily awake and so calm, docile and still. There was always something about her that moved, electrified, jumped or sparkled. Sitting here was a normal girl.

"I'm okay, thanks for your concern. How about you? I haven't seen you for the past three days."

"I'm fine. I'm sorry, James," she said quietly.

James simply smiled at her, thinking that if she were like this every now and then, he might adore her more than he was willing to admit. "Sorry for what? It's not your fault."

"I'm sorry I lied to you. I told you that you didn't have to cry and you cried for two days. I told you that everything would be okay and it wasn't. For that, I'm sorry," she said, resting her chin on the knuckles of her left hand. "For lying, I'm sorry."

Smiling ruefully, he had remembered what a freak she had turned into upon reading that letter. It had looked like she lost all common sense and any hindrance she might have had to do what she had done. James could still picture her eyes filled with hysteria, fear and pain he couldn't even describe.

In a similar situation he was in quite a while ago he figured he would have been wet and shivering right now. "It's alright, Lily, you have nothing to be sorry for. So… why were you crying back then? Did something…"

Lily shifted her eyes over to him and smiled slyly—that slight half-smile that he was so used to. "Secrets like that are mine for the telling, Jamie. You'll mind your own and I'll mind mine."

Sighing, James closed his eyes, at least relieved that she was back to normal. It was starting to creep him out, seeing her in a daze like that—seeing her so normal like that. "As long as you're okay. That's all that matters to me right now."

It could have been his imagination, but he was quite certain that Lily's eyes widened just a bit even if it was only for a second. Once again, she settled back into staring at him silently in a very un-Lily-like way. When she stared at him like this and when she chose to smile and chose what to say, he realized, at this moment, that they were two different Lily's. Of which the real one was he couldn't say for sure.

"Why are you putting me above them?" she asked simply, clearly—as clear and pristine as a drop of red on a field of snow. There was no possible way you could ignore it. _Why do you care more about me than your own bloody parents_, he could hear her say in a different world.

With the door closed and the window wide open and his sisters downstairs, there was no possible way they could overhear—his sisters for all that they were, were warm-blooded creatures and rather liked their heat.

Instead of matching her eyes and that straightforward stare, he shifted them off her and out the window, to stare at the overcast winter sky outside. It was grey, dull and boring. Winter, in general, was grey, dull and boring, he thought. The only redeeming quality it had was that it was utterly and bitterly cold; a cold that James had recently come to like and even love.

Truthfully, although he regarded his parents with love and respect as any child, they were never a source of really anything in his life. For all he cared Arianna could have stolen him away and told him she was his mother and he wouldn't have half a mind to disbelieve her. Not a single time had his parents ever been loving, doting parents. It was almost like that aspect of them had been all been spent on Arianna and they had given up on the other two since all their love and affection had been spurned by their eldest child and their ultimate source of pride.

When faced with this reality, James could honestly say that if his parents chose to live separately from him from the moment he entered Hogwarts to now and was never to see them again, it wouldn't much matter because he never really saw them as parents. They were more like guardians and event organizers for him.

Go to this party, James.

Meet this person, James.

Marry that girl, James.

Attend this school, James.

Take these classes, James.

It was his first year at Hogwarts that he met Sirius Black and, oddly enough, it was because of their parents that they became friends. Sirius had parents that hated their child. James had parents that were disliked by their children. In that he had forged a friendship that was for life and through that later on met with Remus and then Peter.

When he looked at Lily, he wasn't sure where she stood with her parents. But, perhaps, the reason he cared so much about her more than his parents wasn't because he adored her, but because he would rather spend an hour with Lily than an eternity with his parents. Not only that, but he felt like his chains had finally come loose—that he was finally tossed a bloody key that came at a bloody price to those iron chains.

James smiled at her. "Because my parents are nothing to me," he said honestly.

As Lily's eyes widened in shock and horror, anyone looking at the picture right now would have thought he had just told her some awful, terrible secret—or that he was about to murder her with that grin on his face. It was a similar reaction, but a very different situation. However, just from judging by her face he thought that it might have been a similar situation after all.

Turning her head to look out the window, Lily frowned, looking as if she might cry at any second. "You are a horrible person, James Potter," she said simply.

Anger suddenly filled his throat and he stood up, throwing the chair away. "How can you say that!? Do you have _any_ idea how they've caged me up for the past seventeen years of my life!? If _anything they_ are the ones who are horrible people! They've taken away my choice, my _life_ for the past seventeen years! You don't know anything! Don't you _dare_ say I'm a horrible person!"

Although he knew he was being unfair to her, he needed an outlet, he wanted to vent, and he wanted to be angry at _someone_ because he could no longer be angry with them. Lily _didn't_ know anything, that he knew, and he knew he was already regretting his decision to say such things to her the second the chair hit the floor. It was fury that had been pent up for seventeen years and he knew she did not deserve it and at the same time he wanted it to be her fault so he would selfishly feel less guilty about all of this.

Lily didn't move throughout all of this, like she had been expecting it all this time. Even throughout all of his yelling she hadn't even flinched or acknowledged his outburst. It was only once James calmed down and caught his breath and heart, did she slide her eyes over to his. In them was a sorrow mixed with pity. How easily he was able to read her eyes now, he thought, when all he could have ever seen before was mischief and chaos swirling in those green depths. Those green depths that—in these last few moments since he stepped through that door—were now crystal clear.

"Feel better?" she simply asked mildly.

At once, all the anger fled him and he felt ashamed of himself—ashamed he had let go and taken all his frustration out on the person who probably deserved it least in this matter. Bowing his head, he stared at the floor, feeling tears well up in his eyes. Even in his anger and when he was angry at her, she still understood his situation better than him—all this time, it felt like, she had known all this time what he was feeling.

"I'm sorry, Lily, it's not your fault."

Getting up, Lily walked over to him and lifted her hand to his cheek, stopping the trailing tear in its tracks and wiping it away lightly. "Don't cry. Ever since the first moment I saw you in the park that day, I knew who you were. I knew you were engaged to Alicia and I knew it had been a decision that had been made forever. At first I thought you two were just too young and dumb enough to make a choice like that so quickly—Alicia is a child in her own way. But you, once I knew that it wasn't your choice, every time I laid eyes on you all I saw was a caged bird that did not sing. You have a bloody, bloody key in your hands to that cage, James; you should use it and find your voice. I'm positive I've overstayed my welcome here."

As Lily turned on her heel and headed for the door, James clenched and unclenched his fist. It was true. All that time she did understand his situation, she understood better than he did and far sooner than he did. A free bird like her, of course she would recognize a caged one. There was absolutely no way she couldn't have.

Taking a step forward he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling it to his lips as she spun around while steadying herself. Closing his eyes, James kissed the soft skin of her hand. "Thank you, Lily."

Regarding him for only a moment, Lily grinned. "How does the unmarried life suit you, James? Do you like it?" she asked before slipping her hand out of his and leaving her room of three days.

James smiled, listening and counting the steps she was taking away from him.

"I love it."

* * *

To My Reviewers:

I apologize profusely for how lame this story has become.

Vapid Philosophy: T.T Indeed. It is. Extremely. Painfully so. This very thing has been my sole agony over this entire story lately.

Comments:

Please, don't ask. I am making dreadful efforts in attempts to salvage any part of this in my mind. But, anyway, this is some kind of lame introspective lameness for... /sigh... Sweet heaven almighty... T.T.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	13. Broken Princess

Chapter Thirteen: Broken Princess

I was born roughly six months after James was.

Ever since I was born, up until I was five and met him for the first time, I've always been told that a prince was out there for me, born and bred to be mine, just for me to love and be loved by. By the time I was four years old I could hardly have waited to meet such a person, for my parents had held onto his identity like it was a big secret and that I should not find out until it was time to.

About a week after my fifth birthday is when I met him.

James Potter—the prince that was born and bred especially for me.

In my mind, all princes married princesses; therefore I must have been a princess to marry such a prince. Even then, James was the most charming boy I've ever met—much better than the ones I met at school; for he was kind, soft-spoken, even-tempered and looked like he loved me from the moment he laid eyes on me. For a girl the age of five—apart from your father—like me, who has been told about this precious person so very often, it was like a dream come true—hope made reality.

This feeling I have never let go of. From five to eleven I have never let it go and during their first year at Hogwarts I didn't keep it a secret that I was engaged to such a charming boy—that this prince was meant to be mine and mine alone and that all the other girls could just cry dreadful rivers about it. From five to eleven I've tried my best to become a good princess so that this kind and wonderful prince was not wasted on me and he would not regret ever being born and raised for me to love and be loved by. It was my dearest wish for so long that I made myself perfect for him.

During the first week at school, it was there that I first caught sight of _her_.

That girl.

The one who never smiled, the one who never laughed, the one who looked like she could be a rose herself but had thorns so large that you might end up as sleeping beauty if you touched them. I found myself enchanted with this girl—for I didn't know anybody who could look so lonely, so cold and so miserable with all of life. It looked like this girl didn't care for anything but her studies as a witch. Even at that, though she was brilliant and I was always amazed—her ability to stand out was less than normal. Not to me though—never to me.

But she was so beautiful, I thought, how could anyone be so miserable when they look like her? At the time I was probably far too young to understand and even lost interest after a while, deciding that she was just unhappy with life because she was a miserable person though she should be happier. After all, when you're eleven and you look so beautiful, how could you ever be unhappy?

I know now that this was my childish naivety at work.

During the fourth year, she left school a whole month early and never came back. I thought that something had happened to her but no one had mentioned it and we weren't exactly friends so I didn't say anything or ask any questions though I was really curious. They say that curiosity killed the cat, and I think it did with good reason—for everyone was allowed a few secrets of their own. Even when I let my cousin's dreadful cat loose for I hated it so I never told anyone.

The fifth year she had come back.

But she was different.

Lily had changed.

Changed from the unsmiling, sad little girl into something entirely different. For the first time in my life I had seen her smile. She smiled and she smiled like never before. Her smile was wide and beautiful and utterly contagious. It was when I first looked upon that smile that I felt like she had been a caterpillar all this time and was just now becoming a butterfly more beautiful than any of us could ever hope to be. It was startling, it was magnetic and it was as if she weren't just a whole new person—changed, but still the same—but someone else entirely. It was as if someone had literally pulled her out of her skin and replaced her.

That moment I saw her smile I had decided I wanted to be like her, to be able to smile so freely and easily. Whatever had happened over the summer for her and for whatever reason she left fourth year so early I had decided on my own that it must have been something good. For her to change to drastically for the better—whatever had happened must have been a good thing. Perhaps she had found a prince of her own and that her life was better because of it—that she was happy because of it.

So drastic was the change that people who had not ever noticed her before noticed her now—had thought she had just come into the school that year. Those people were all nobodies, though, for I noticed the change and I was somebody. When I saw her change, I knew she was somebody as well.

That year, actually, she secretly became the one person I would ever admit to having adored. She became my idol and I will never forget it. I can still remember the day that I chose to do it so well in my mind that I could recall even the scent of her perfume that night.

It was a dark and cold night and I was on a test of courage by some of the other girls in Gryffindor because they thought I was too calm and sweet to last very long on a test of courage. Honestly, I thought I was too, but I told myself that I should become a better person for James; because he had been brought up for me and I had been brought up for him. If James was trying his absolute best to be mine, then I would do my best to be his.

With only a single candle to light my path I had to go all the way down to the dungeons. Even now I don't remember the task I had to complete in the dungeons because that was the night that changed my life.

A draft had blown out my candle and fear flooded my veins. I was terrified of the dark and I didn't hide it from anyone at all. Those girls who are no longer my friends—they all knew it too. Back in the dorm I could still imagine them laughing. As I walked down that corridor, shaking out of fright, something happened to me.

I remember it so clearly.

I tripped and I never hit the floor because I was caught.

Someone caught me.

_She_ had caught me.

When I opened my eyes I couldn't clearly see her face, all I could see were her beautiful green eyes glowing in the dark like a cats. Green gems amongst the darkness—soaking up every ounce of light to make themselves look even more beautiful. As I opened my mouth and took in a breath to scream, she put a finger to my lips to stifle me. In the next second she lit her wand and I saw who it was.

_"Careful, kitten, it's not good to get lost down here. A fox might eat you."_

It was Lily Evans. It was the sad, miserable girl who had turned overnight into the girl that every other girl wished to be—including myself. Lily Evans was the girl who knew every right move to make, every smile to smile and every way to make something look graceful. Boys threw her flowers and she would blow them kisses—ever teasing them but never more than that.

Setting me right upon my feet, she brushed my hair back behind my ear, picked up my candle and relit it, smiling like a fox at me before giving me directions back to the tower and disappearing into the night—walking in darkness. It was at that moment I chose to adore her, chose her to be my idol. Lily had courage to do the things other girls would never dare, to say things that people always wanted to say but couldn't, to be the person that others shouldn't. Lily was a rogue, she was a devil she was everything I wanted and more. I admired her so terribly much that I continued to watch her closely, like a hawk like I did my first year when I first saw her as a lonely and miserable girl.

Every once in a while she would casually greet me in the hall, never using my actual name—always calling me a kitten or even _her_ kitten. I didn't like the idea that I was hers, because I was James', but she said so anyway and after a while I didn't mind and even came to like the idea. Lily was never too friendly with the other girls—though she had become popular with her new change in attitude, I could still see those walls that were a mile high around her—barring all access. I had been friends with those kinds of girls as well—and I thought her the better person for shutting them out. All they did was lie, cheat and steal from you.

After a while, and I can't say when, I lost the infatuation and started once again to focus on bigger, better things, like becoming the ideal woman that James would love and cherish forever and ever. It wasn't until the end of my sixth year did I remember how enchanting and charismatic she was when it was announced that she would be Head Girl for the last and final year. When I saw her flash that winning, _victorious_ smile over everyone at the closing ceremonies and Fiona Wethersett—our current Head Girl—introduced Lily to everyone I couldn't help but think that she looked like someone who had achieved a _real_ victory—over something.

I wanted to be Head Girl so badly. I wanted it so much because I knew that James would be Head Boy and I wanted to share that position with him. I wanted to show him how mature and responsible I could be and how much I could do—I wanted to show him my true potential. I knew I wouldn't get it because someone like her existed. It was because I was too busy following her footsteps that I didn't see that she was always the one step ahead of me. Now that I look back on it, it's no wonder that she beat me so easily. If it were up to me I would have chosen her as well.

I hadn't seen much of James during that summer, he had always run off and his sisters would always be vague about where whenever I had come over and asked. Arianna and Relina were home for only two weeks during the summer and it had been one of few times I had ever met them. One was at James' ninth birthday and another at his twelfth. Just from the way they talked and acted I could tell they were different than everyone else. I had heard briefly from James how they refused to follow their parents obligations—to be ladies of society—and instead chose to pick up their wands and fight death itself.

No matter how much I tried to get along with either of them, however, they would just turn down my efforts as if it were nothing—as if it was pointless to try and win their favour. Whenever I saw James chat and smile with his sisters whenever they were around I felt a little lost, I felt a little helpless and most of all I felt unwanted—like I was just the third wheel amongst all of them—like I was a nuisance and was just getting in the way. It was here and there—with them and small other things—I began to feel the separation—to see the wall that forever existed between James and I. It was small enough, so I was able to deny it.

The next time I saw James I saw that he had changed. James, to me, always looked like he was about to collapse under all the responsibility his parents put upon him. Although I had no idea of just how much it was, and I still never really do, I still sometimes think I could have done better if I tried to. Not once did I ever ask what being the 'Potter heir' meant at all. I didn't know because in my family there was nothing to really inherit but money and good breeding. Even under all that pressure, he always managed to smile at me and to me it meant that all was well.

It wasn't until the Halloween dance did I ever think that perhaps James was not my prince. It wasn't until I saw him dance with Lily Evans and almost kiss her did I think that perhaps James was not my prince at all and I was simply holding the spot for someone else. For a moment, I thought that she had stolen him away, that the girl I adored most had stolen away the boy I loved most—for I loved James, I loved him dearer than life for he was mine to love and keep forever.

That day, I promised myself, even if it cost me everything, that I would not give him up no matter what. No matter what I will hold onto him because he is all I know—all I have chosen to devote myself to; whether it is the right choice, the smart and sensible choice or not. Even as I saw him nearly kiss her, I couldn't help but think that I was always a step behind her, no matter what I could never catch up to Lily Evans for she was too far ahead of me for she ran while I had merely walked and strolled along.

Shortly after James came to me and I had been expecting it for a long while. The way he acted around her was far different than how he acted around me. James always treated me like a princess, like a china set not to be touched—to be treated gently and carefully otherwise I may break. Even after he told me that we would remain together, I cried and I thanked him in my heart even though he broke my heart that moment doing so for I could see it in his eyes that this kind, warm and loving boy could never do any wrong to anyone but himself.

Selfishly, I never let him out of my sight for days afterwards.

From that moment to the Christmas break, I counted down the days. I counted down the days until it would once again just be James and I—like it should. Once again I would be able to reaffirm to myself that James Potter was a boy born to be my prince—for me to love and be loved by. I've lived with this thought all my life—all of it. Not once have I ever strayed and thought that maybe my prince lie elsewhere—for I knew he had stood by me all this time.

When Christmas break started and James looked happy once again when he took my hand, I was so sure it was because of me—that I was finally able to make him happy.

It was a few short-lived moments of bliss.

That night, that horrible night for the Potters, _she_ was there—like a black omen of many bad things to come. I knew it couldn't possibly be, but I felt like it was almost her fault for coming that the Potters died. It was funny how I found out. It wasn't James who told me but his sisters—who treated me so much nicer since the first time I met them. Arianna was kind and courteous and even let me borrow a dress for dinner while Relina combed out my hair for dinner after returning.

Only moments after my hair was done and my dress was freshly put on did I hear James come home and bring her back along with him. I felt my blood run cold as if it were ice. The quick blast of frozen air that penetrated the warmth of their home and hit me full on could have been a spring breeze to me. I was _so_ sure that it would be a wonderful Christmas this year, I was so certain that everything would turn out properly this year—that the final Christmas before we were married would be just perfect and we would be able to talk about it in front of the fire with the kids later on in life.

Even as I walk up to James in the park, there are tears in my eyes and when I finally reach him, he merely looks up and gives me a sad, affirming smile. Affirming me of all my wildest nightmares and cruellest dreams come reality he smiles at me. This smile, I had always told myself, was meant for me—it was mine and mine alone. I never wanted to let it go—because I had no one else. If I lost James I would break and there would be no one there to piece me back together.

When I start crying, James gets to his feet and wraps his arms around me. Even though I cry and he and I both know the reason, there's very little I can do about it. It's suddenly clear to me that since Lily stepped into his life he had stopped watching me—has stopped looking at me and started watching her. I can understand that—for _I_ have always been watching her. As I cry unashamedly in his arms for the last time, I tell myself, now more than ever, I wish I were her.

"If it's you, I want to propose to you properly."

Never in my life have I wished more to be Lily Evans.

* * *

To My Reviewers:

**Ahem. For all of those that are interested...** YCF actually hit me with the inspiration stick for an alternate path from chapter ten onwards. So everything up to and including chapter ten will be _exactly the same as you see it here_ but the new 'path' will be different from C11 on. I _will_ continue 'this' version and finish it (for those that enjoy it), just keep in mind I have a different way for it to end. You know all those stories you wish had alternate endings and ways they should have gone? Well, this story will be one of them. It will be sufficiently named: "Your Choice of Flower: The Dilemma of Choice." And, yes, I used the name of one of my earlier chapters. Right now I can't say which path will be longer, but one of them for sure. I will try to post the chapters for each path side-by-side. DofC C11 is already out with this event--go read it if you wish.

My solid promise to you: I will finish this story. And, as always, my love to all of you who give me your love and reviews. My only hope is that you all enjoy reading it--whether you review or not.

On a different note, I am not quite sure which story I should shamelessly start to promote once YCF is done--since I plan to be making it shorter than Rain. If you could take a single minute out of your day to go and vote in my poll, it would make my day. Otherwise I'll probably just pick up Forget Me Not--or not write at all! If you don't want that to happen, go vote.

Ahem. With that said, go read my first of seven Seven Kisses (7K) chapter. I think it's lovely and I hope you'll agree.

I apologize, this is a lot of excessive nothing for you to read. The first paragraph is important excessive nothing so I hope you've read that at least.

Comments:

T_T I wanted to make her better… but I think I ended up making her worse off. I'm so sorry Alicia! Please forgive me! I promise you'll be different in the next story!!! At first I didn't even want to put her in here, because in my mind, and in my stories, it will almost always be Lily and James--unless otherwise mentioned--and unless I'm particularly bored of this straight-laced pairing. Then again, I was having some thought on the actual title of the story and realized I had nearly forgotten just what kind of effect I wanted to go for and decided to go full circle back to the original intentions I had for this little love of mine.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	14. Effect and Affection

Chapter Fourteen: Effect and Affection

Every cause has an effect.

To James, this rule has never changed. It was what dictated his actions, his thinking and his manners; and so—he could only assume—it did so for others. For instance, when he accidentally destroyed his mother's best china when he was twelve in his second year he got the reward of not being able to enjoy a dessert after his meal for an entire week. It would have been longer if his mother had a longer attention span and not just bought another, much more expensive, set to take her mind off things. It was because of that life lesson that James had always been careful with his words, his actions and most of all—his thoughts. For it were your thoughts that, inevitably, dictated your words and your actions no matter what you say or do for as long as you live, and forever after that.

To that end, he had made it a dire point not to fuss over the small things. After all, people were human and prone to very human error. Although he could honestly, though not proudly, say that his parents had given him little affection though much attention, they had taught him very well on the right and wrong behaviour. Much of this pertained specifically to Alicia Rose—simply because he would inevitably marry her after graduation. Frankly, that didn't apply anymore, but James was so stuck into thinking it did that his thinking didn't much change. People behaved how they behaved—it was simply a fact of life.

Any way he looked at it, however, hers was simply wrong behaviour.

"You insane, psychopathic, _demon_ of a woman! You drive me mad!" he vented at the top of his lungs at her. Fuming, James sat down in the chair behind him, folding his arms like a child—as if he were the one that had just been scolded.

A smile slid over those red, luscious and oh-so-kissable lips of hers and James could already feel his determination waver. This time, she had to know that she had done wrong—and he wasn't about to let the fact that he'd probably forgive her for committing murder if she smiled at him not hinder his efforts. The worst part of it all was that he _knew_ what that smile meant—he _knew_ she was not sorry for it all, and probably—in fact—rather _proud_ of it. It seemed like her favourite pastime and current hobby was to make James' life utterly miserable. Truly, the look that she gave him and that wicked grin on her face was the furthest thing from remorse you could possibly imagine on someone. Oh no, in fact, it was something far worse. Pride. Satisfaction. Everything that defined Lily Evans after entertaining herself with _wrong_ behaviour.

In reality and truth, it _was_ a small matter that he was fussing over with her, but at the same time he felt like he could just not let it go. It wasn't because she had made the mistake in the way mistakes are usually made—by mistake—it was because she had made it _willingly_ completely, absolutely, one hundred percent _knowing_ it was a mistake that made him furious. To get to the short, blunt end of the matter, Lily Evans had done it on purpose. James found it utterly unacceptable. Utterly. Completely. Absolutely.

Lily laughed.

And when Lily laughed it rang in James' ears like clear, silver bells—pure; sweet; _divine._ Whether it was cruelly meant or carefully considered, when she laughed he felt his will weaken against hers and his resolve shatter to almost nothing. Every time he heard her laugh, he knew he would be prone to succumb, give in, kick the bucket and just let her have her obscure, inconceivable, and selfish wish. It was such a torment to him to know that she could destroy his tenacity so easily and it was even worse that she _knew_ it was such a torment to him. For Lily Evans was the type to exploit, plunder and take utter advantage of any weakness without so much as a second thought or even guilt to follow in its wake to correct future actions.

It was _this_ kind of demon that James knew he had fallen for—and was so miserably, _miserably_—for it needs to be repeated for extreme emphasis—in love with.

Shaking her head with a sigh, Lily sat up on the table—directly in front of him. Placing both hands on his shoulders, Lily moved close until their foreheads barely touched, leaning her weight onto him just so that if he moved they would both collapse and be in a less than more-than-he-wished-to-be candid situation. "Alright, James Potter, here's my consolation to you since you've made me feel _so_ bad about it. Now, listen closely and read my lips," she said her voice dimming a little quieter almost to a whisper.

James' heart started to beat rapidly and he could feel the heat of her forehead, though they were not touching, radiate onto his. It felt like his entire body was entranced by her—waiting on her every movement and every word. It didn't really help that she was sitting right in front of him—on the table no less. You could, at this point, say that Lily Evans was a girl without decency, except that _anyone_ who watches Lily Evans for even _ten minutes_ without knowing her could tell you she was just being that: Lily Evans. There was no right way to define her otherwise.

When James looked down at those ruby red lips that were so tempting that they could be the reincarnation of original spoken sin itself, he saw them move slightly—soundlessly.

_Too bad._

Something snapped in him; motion occurred and the next thing he knew he was in pain, on the ground, beside the fallen chair he had been previously sitting in and staring up, red-faced and pitching anger like never before, at a cackling Lily Evans—looking every bit the Wicked Witch of the West and loving every shred of it. For a few moments, James was too flustered to say anything and his mouth resembled that of a goldfish's far too much to say anything coherent. Even his brain was in a whirl as he felt it spin around in his head like the soup it had been reduced to. The Pure Evil—for something like her needed capitalization—that was still sitting on the desk, laughing, could never look more pleased with herself.

"You!" James roared—simply wanting to get across his frustration with her in any way he could—even if that was in a monosyllable.

Thankfully, they were alone in the Heads Common room and so no one was privy to James' torment. Even if someone else were, they would think James was just overreacting—which, probably, he was. It wasn't so much James' fault for reacting in such a way as it was his upbringing. You could imagine why, coming from a family whose ultimate rule—right next to absolute punctuality for dinner—was _mannerisms first_, he reacted the way he did sometimes.

Manner lessons at the Potter's were more akin to American boot camp than anything else.

"'Are brilliant, lovely, and all kinds of wonderful…'" she said with such flair you'd think she was a complete narcissist (and James didn't doubt she was), "is what you want to say, right?" she said quickly—rather rhetorically—finally calming down from her own hysteria enough to say it—still looking devilishly happy with herself. Hopping off the table, Lily sighed, shaking her head. "I know you have quite literally _fallen_ for such brilliance, James, but you won't do that genius any good if you're on the ground like that. Flowers must be prepared, _lilies_ must be arranged."

James sputtered—trying to get something—_anything_—rational, irrational, or not, out. It was not so much that he wanted to get a message across to her now as he just wanted to scold her and vent his mounting frustration _of_ her _at_ her. It was so ironic to him now, as he lie on the floor, watching the devil at work, how he had _looked forward_ to this 'Heads Only' meeting in order to discuss details of the next dance that was coming up. It was to, as Professor McGonagall had so grudgingly, eloquently quoted the words of the Headmaster Albus Dumbledore: 'foster _better_ relations between the male and female populations of Hogwarts.'

One could not help but think that the Head Boy and Girl were partially to blame for this statement.

Right from the get go, Lily had been commandeering, seizing and rightfully dictating the entire meeting like the tyrant she was. From start to near finish, it had been sheer and utter hell for James. How naïve he was to think that this meeting would be anything _but_ pain, torment and frustration for him. It became clear to him, during this meeting, just how useless she thought he was at his job. Of course he had been performing the duties to the best of his ability, but—truth be told—a lot of it was thanks to Lily. It had come to the point that Lily led and carved her swath of mass destruction and James merely learned how to cope, deal with and clean up the mess in the aftermath—sometimes not even, for the devastation she caused sucked in light.

Pursing his lips, James closed his eyes, occupying himself and calming himself down with thoughts and fantasies of Lily being a _normal_, _average_ girl rather than the chaotic maelstrom she currently was and probably had been for quite some time. How she managed to pass under his radar unnoticed for so long until now absolutely flabbergasted him. Oh, if only Lily were a normal—_normal in every definition of the word_—girl. There would be more peace in his life, more relaxation and much more sanity. Then again, if he wanted all that, he probably would have fallen in love with the sensible and smart Alicia Rose—not this insane lunatic.

Oh, how he sometimes cursed fate that he had to have fallen for an eccentric like Lily.

With a defeated sigh, James got up, righting the chair and moving to sit down on the couch she had now situated herself on, in front of the fireplace. Though back from Christmas holidays, it was still January and it was still cold. In fact, the rest of the school would actually be arriving back tomorrow. It was because they were the Heads that they had to come back a day earlier to get everything in order. At first, just like this meeting, James had looked forward to it. Once again, he had only his naivety to blame for expecting things not to turn out like they had.

Lily had contented herself with scribbling things on a clipboard—with a regular pen. Lily never seemed to use quills, ink or parchment if she could help it—which was usually all the time. In fact, the first day he saw her on the train that would take just the two of them to Hogwarts, she had taken a box with her to supply her with an inordinate amount of stationery supplies. Pens, paper, pencils and everything else you could consider 'the muggle way of doing it.'

"Fine. At least _tell_ me why you changed the flowers from roses to lilies? So that I may at least _try_ to understand what kind of maniacal thought process goes on up there."

Looking up at him, Lily smiled, and he could see the reflection of the fire dancing in her green eyes. Placing the tip of the pen to her lips, Lily tilted her head at him. "Well, James Potter, what would _your_ choice of flower be?" she asked rather prominently—as if to make her point clearer.

James swallowed, looking away, feeling his face burn.

No matter what he did not want to think of the metaphorical meaning and implications to that question.

When Lily sighed (in defeat? Never), he turned back to look at her, scribbling something else down. "Lilies are fresher, more vibrant and easier to accept without any hidden meaning. Dearest McGonagall asked me to keep the dance as… well, as smooth as possible. Teenage girls are prone to think _many_ things about a boy that might give _roses_ to her, wouldn't you agree? Precaution," she said, summing it up in a single word.

No matter what, when Lily got to work and entered a 'let's get this done' attitude, he found her much more endearing and drawn to her. It always calmed him down when she was like this. It just went to show that she could calm him—and thus by doing so become less of a demon than she actually was—as easily as she frustrated him. Truly, Lily Evans had complete control over James' time of the day in every way, shape, and form. When she was serious like this, it reminded him that she, in the end, was someone utterly and completely reliable—someone who could get the work done under any circumstance and still have more time to enjoy herself than anyone else while doing it.

It was because of this, that James was able to find the courage to ask her things and talk to her as he never imagined he would. The question on his lips, for instance, he would never have the courage or resolve to ask otherwise. "So… if a boy were to give _you_ roses, what would you think about him?" he asked timidly, cautiously—almost afraid for the answer.

A smirk instantly came to her lips as her eyebrow rose in amusement—though she did not turn her face towards him—eyes still trained on the notes she was writing down. "I would think that _boy_ is still very much a married man to me."

James quickly turned away so she could not see his reaction. Of course, he hadn't told her that he had broken the engagement off with Alicia. Although he was quite certain that he was in love with Lily, there were still many things he had come to like about Alicia—after having made the final decision. No matter what, he wanted the final decision to be his and his alone. The one he would marry, he wanted to make sure that they received a proper proposal and nothing less. Not an arranged thing, or even a guilt thing—something true, pure and honest.

"I… I'm not…" he started shakily as he could feel Lily's eyes look up and train themselves on him. "Alicia and I broke the engagement. Nobody else knows yet."

There was a pause of silence until he heard the unmistakable sound of Lily's pen continuing to write—as if he hadn't said anything at all. It dragged on long and it wasn't until James turned back to look at her—look at whatever lasting reaction was on her face after the comment. What he saw was that she didn't even so much look like she had heard it let alone be disturbed by it. Something analogous to shock and relief filtered through his mind.

"Well?" he prompted.

Lily smirked, continuing to write. "Well what?" she returned with a laugh. "Good for you, James. Go catch the chickadee that truly moves your heart. Is that what you want to hear?" she asked suddenly, looking up at him. "I suppose this could answer my earliest question of you about her. It never really was properly answered back then," she muttered slightly.

"So then," he persisted—for the answer really plagued his mind—and her nonsense would not stop him, "if a boy were to give you roses… what… what would you do?"

Eyebrows raising sky high, Lily smiled at him. When Lily smiled, it always meant many things—various things—often various terrifying, irritating, frightening, be-warned-for-the-storm-is-coming things. The latter James was particularly familiar with. Putting her clipboard down, Lily crawled over to his side of the couch like a tiger that was eyeing its prey that was frozen in fear. James, however, was not so much frozen as terrified out of his wits and simply found himself pressed very much against the armrest of the couch in a rather lame subconscious attempt to get away from danger.

Lily hovered over him, that same smile on her face turning up—evilly? More evil? Wicked? Wicked-_ly_? Yes, wickedly—just so. Their faces were so close that if James were to lift his head he could kiss her. Warm breath cascaded down over his skin and the scent of her drove him mad. Above all that inner turmoil of want and need was a prominent feeling of fear. Truly, Lily Evans, like this, was something to be feared and be cautioned of.

"What I would do… what I would think…" she whispered close to his ear, "Are two _completely different_ things," she continued. Backing up off him, leaving him flustered and red-in-the-face Lily got off the couch, picking up the clipboard, scribbling more things down, her back to him. "I would most likely _think_ before I _do_ anything, James Potter. As the proverbial wisdom goes." Cocking a head over her shoulder, she smiled—a smile that looked every bit like she had won. "Wouldn't you?"

James nearly gagged at that comment—too many times he had not done just that very thing. After a few more quips—which, if he were to be honest, didn't catch, because the fact that she was so close only a moment ago buzzed lightly in his mind—Lily left the Heads Common area. Supposedly in order to get whatever task needed doing done. James had to thank heaven and earth that Lily was the Head Girl, because if he was the one who had to keep track of everything he might not survive.

If there was one thing that James would concede defeat in regards to superiority of which gender was better it would consist of a list of two things: The management of trivial affairs and being manipulative enough to make the average male specimen guilty enough to go to ridiculous lengths to 'make it all better.' That usually amounted to chocolate and roses—according to Sirius Black—but he wasn't so sure if that method would work on someone as odd—in every sense of the word—as Lily Evans.

With a defeated sigh, he had to let the matter go. The flowers that would decorate the spring dance would be lilies and, supposedly, nothing else. Although James still preferred roses over the pale, white flower, there was no stopping Lily Evans and the dictator she was. With nothing else to do, James returned to his room and sat down tiredly at his desk, preparing to write a letter. It wasn't until he took out stationery to do so that he saw an unopened envelope that had been placed in his drawer rather inconspicuously.

It was tied with red ribbon and had his name in gold, cursive writing on the front. Turning it over in his hands once, twice, a third time, he finally tugged at the ribbon and willed it loose. Taking the folded paper out, he smoothed it out and read it in the light. It was addressed to him and the writing was familiar—though he couldn't tell whose it was. To be frankly honest, James didn't pay that much attention to such details about people.

It wasn't Lily's though, that he was (almost) sure of.

Which really just went to show how deep and far his obsession had gone.

"'I love you,'" he read out—the only three words on the piece of paper.

Eyes widening, James found he had started to analyze the paper and gold print much closer—hoping against hope that, maybe it was Lily's writing. Something like that would make him forget just what kind of horrid girl he had fallen in love with and bring out all the best, although questionable, qualities he saw in her. At this point in time, James could probably think of literally millions of good qualities about her with little regard to the rather opposite thoughts he thought of her only a few moments ago.

Frustratingly enough, the author of the letter had left no name—no clear indication of who it could have come from. It was simple and elegant enough to be Alicia's writing, but at the same time he wasn't sure if it _wasn't_ Lily's writing anymore—reflecting back on that he would always tell himself that he was deluded to the point of no return when concerning Lily Evans sometimes. Even so, it could and it could _not_ be hers. If it was neither, what was he to do about it?

Suddenly, the insignificant letter that he had overlooked for an uncertain square sum of time became the priority in his life and posted itself at the forefront of his every waking and sleeping thought. It was insanity in the form of three concise words that had no distinct owner. Something told him that it was Alicia—and yet something told him that it could also be Lily. Although her reaction just now was… well, you could really take it either way, but he wanted to be truly sure that his mind was not playing games on him and that truth and reality had not blurred.

If it was Alicia, he didn't know what he would do. It was bad enough he was still feeling guilty about dropping her so coldly back then. Even so, he didn't put it out of the question that Lily might just cross a line somewhere—though her practice of brinksmanship was flawless, he didn't doubt the rule that no one was perfect. Not in the least bit. If that rule had an exception by way of Lily Evans his world might just fall to pieces. If Alicia had wrote this, then he wouldn't be able to see straight, clear or even for the next week and being around Lily would torment him even more—for James was the type of person who would be classified as a martyr in just about everything he did.

It was only when he met Lily Evans that he started to see the lines he had invariably drew in stone.

With a sigh, he put the letter neatly back in its paper casing, grudgingly accepting the defeat that he could not discern just whose writing it belonged to. With that in mind, James returned the letter to its original place and started to leave the Heads' Room for a much-needed walk in an empty school to clear his head and thoughts.

Just as the portrait hole swung open, he saw Alicia Rose standing there, hand raised as if to knock, looking away at something in the distance. When the sound of the portrait hole opening and the image of James standing there like a loon with a few screws loose up top greeted her peripheral vision, she squeaked out a gasp and a delicate hand raised to cover her mouth. A white ribbon was tied in her hair and she was wearing a matching white dress as opposed to regular school uniform. Of course, there were no classes and the only ones that should actually be at school right now were the Head Boy, Girl and the teachers, but the effect of seeing her dressed so dazzlingly wasn't lost on him.

"James!" she had gasped, simply fixing him with warm amber. "I… ah… Is Lily here?" she asked, turning her eyes downward—probably having remembered that they were better off as strangers right now. Even so, he didn't imagine her to be particularly great friends with Lily—he didn't think Lily had _any_ friends close enough that she spent inordinate amounts of time with who could also put up with her. Alicia Rose was certainly one of those out of the question. Not even a candidate.

So why she was here, a day early, asking for Lily Evans, was quite a curiosity to him. "Ah… she just left. Somewhere," he added belatedly when her eyes turned back up to him, hoping for a directional answer. Looking away from her rather uncomfortably—and, if he had to admit it, guiltily—James pursed his lips nervously. There was something intrinsically different about their relationship that had changed now that they were no longer engaged. Then again, to see her as 'just another girl' at Hogwarts in his year felt so much of a crime to him. "S-So, how have you been?" Alicia's eyes widened at the question.

Smooth, James Potter, _very_ smooth.

"I… ah… well… I mean, how… what… what have you been up to?" he asked frantically, scouring his brain for answers—proper questions that he wouldn't feel guilty asking. Then again, this was _Alicia Rose_ he was talking to—the owner of the heart he had probably shattered to dust just a few days ago. No doubt she cried longer than she let on she would at the park that day.

Alicia looked away from him, smiling slightly. "I'm… I'm alright. Better. You know, actually, I met… Do you know Sean Patil?"

Resisting the urge to blink, dumbfounded, James wracked his memory and remembered a Sean Patil, indeed. Sean wasn't particularly outspoken, but he was a bloody good Chaser for the team—irreplaceable. Not only that, but he was dedicated and as loyal as a dog to just about anything. That boy was one of those that could say something and you knew it was true. Amiable, well-liked and overall a general favourite of everyone. James had no qualms with him.

"Yes, he's a very good Chaser, what about him?"

A little bit of a smile came to her lips. "Actually… he and I… well… we've hit it off."

Sean Patil was surely scum of the earth.

James' smile never faltered. "Really?" he asked, feeling something big and rather ugly start to grow inside of him and rear its vicious green head.

"Yes. You know, James, when you told me later that day that… if you chose me in the end, you wanted to do it properly—propose, I mean, I swear I didn't live for anything else after that. I told myself that there was still a chance—that, that I could _become_ the woman of your dreams. Actually… later that day I ran across Sean and… and he told me that… 'We can't _become_ something for someone else because we are _created_ for someone else.'"

James nodded, and he couldn't agree with Sean Patil more—but it still left behind the desire to sock him a good one.

"So then I started thinking," she continued, "That 'isn't it wonderful that you've found the person you've been created to be with?' I think… in our case, it might be something that had been forced. You know… I have to thank you, James—" James felt a knife skewer his heart, "—because of this, because of you; I've been able to grow up, just a little."

Alicia smiled at him. The way she had bounced back so quickly and easily he couldn't help but wonder if it were because she didn't really love him after all—but the look in her eyes was still so familiar to him that he found that he couldn't think now that it was true. After all, Alicia had never once looked at anyone else—she was devoted to him, cared about him and showed it—in many more ways than one. Of course James had returned her sentiments and thoughts, but he never did much more than that. Alicia was truly living perfection—she was not temperamental like Lily, she was not fickle like Lily, she was not—thank-sweet-Merlin-for-this-for-twelve-years-of-his-life—irrational like Lily, and most of all she was kind, sweet and gentle.

Right now, James felt something akin to a knife in his heart telling him just what he had tossed away for something else. Truly, she _had_ grown up just a little. James could only imagine that Lily would have thrown a fit if she were in Alicia's place. Surely, his life would have been more hellish than it already was because not only would he be guilty but he would have to deal with a dragon hell-bent on making his life miserable to boot. Then again, Lily never really acted according to expectation—rather she seemed to fight against it.

"That's good to hear, Alicia. I'm happy for you," he said rather stiffly, feeling if he said any more his painful smile would break his face.

Alicia smiled at him now. Truly, she was an angel. So forgiving, so kind and generous were aspects he really had taken for granted in Alicia. Upon seeing this and seeing what he had to put up with in Lily—he partially couldn't help but feel like he got the raw end of the deal. Sure, Lily made his head spin and his knees weak, but he _admired_ Alicia—and that fact never made itself more prominent than now.

When she was with someone else.

It was painfully true that you don't appreciate that which you have until it's lost.

"Yes. I wish the best to you, as well—with—with Lily. But… just for the sake of things, I wanted to discuss with Lily—and you of course—regarding the matter of our engagement. No one knows yet and I'd… I'd actually like to keep it that way. So, I wanted to ask her first if it was okay that we keep the change a bit of a secret from everyone. Rumours are… very harsh things to deal with."

Very true.

"I don't mind at all—I'm sure Lily won't either. I'll make sure to explain the situation to her properly."

Alicia smiled. "Right then. In the mean time… you know… to keep up appearances, I think we should… still spend time together—so no one gets any ideas."

Brilliance—what else could he have expected from her?

"Naturally. Hogsmeade next weekend then?"

Another smile. "Sounds lovely. Anyway, I… need to get going, I'm already going to be spending some time with Sean at Hogsmeade today—since there are no students and teachers have a better mind to say nothing than anything, it'll be one of the rare opportunities."

James nodded. "Of course. Have fun. I'll see you around then, Alicia."

"Yes, see you around," she returned, walking away.

Surely, Sean Patil was scum of the earth.

* * *

To My Reviewers:

Well, here is your Monday update come just a bit early in order to celebrate that all my exams are taken, written, finished and graded with flying colours all around. You're all so great, I love you oodles. I love getting your comments, so make them as you wish. :) It won't hurt my feelings though if you don't. Remember, if you don't review, you're forfeiting all rights to your opinions of YCF to me and I will most definitely make sure that they are of my particular opinion that you love it. :)

Comments:

He's waffling! He's waffling!

- Minute Maid

Boisson des Reines.


	15. Miss Wonderland

Chapter Fifteen: Miss Wonderland

When life gives you lemons, they say you should make lemonade.

Well then, riddle me this: When life _takes_ your lemons _and_ your lemonade, what should you do about it?

Everything in this world is based on opportunity. There exist only two types of people: Those who take it and those who don't.

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Alice.

A perfect life, a perfect smile, perfect friends and a perfect home. Certainly, Miss Alice was perfection itself and it was perfection enough that even saints would turn green at. Alice lived a wonderful life—she was honest, kind and everything you wanted to be and then some. Nothing in her life left her wanting of more and she remained the spoiled, happy, naïve child she had always been. Alice had been given a multitude of lemons and she was ridiculously wealthy in lemonade—so much that others probably would have wanted to hang her if she had even a drop of arrogance in her. In her life, everything was surely as it should be.

Until, that is, the storm hit.

It came in and swept away every ounce, shred and fibre of that happiness and obliterated everything she knew it to be. The destruction was so severe that she was left with neither parents, friends, siblings, a home or security—security in that happy, naïve world she had once belonged to. After the storm hit and she had lost everything, one prevailing sound rang throughout her ears so clearly and so loudly that it drove her insane—laughing. People were _laughing_ at her. Those same people that were sick with envy of her were laughing at her—and this she could not stand to see.

Thus, it was not so much that Alice encountered a rabbit and followed it down that hole as she was dragged down, kicking and screaming curses at those laughing shadows. Never more did she want to prove to them that she was still so much better than them—that, even with nothing, she was still _superior_ to them in every way. It was unfair that luck had struck _her_ with lightning and none of them. For such misfortune to befall her and for so much worse to happen to her—now within a world not her own—Alice became bitter and grew desperate.

When people become bitter and desperate, they change. For the good or the worse, they change and never again become the same person again.

At that point in time, something horrible and wonderful happened to Alice. Everything had been taken from her and so, Alice decided, that she would take everything right back. Forget when opportunity presented itself—she would take what she wanted—for this world had already shown her that it was cruel and unfair. Rather than sit and wait for opportunity to fall on her doorstep, she had started to hunt it down and take it for everything it was.

In this way, Alice regained everything.

In the same way Alice did, I restored my life.

Things lost can never be returned, but they can—forever—be replaced.

My life has been unfair to me in every way you could imagine since I was seven. It wasn't until absolutely _everything_ was taken from me that I began to see this world the same way Alice did. When I first looked at her, I couldn't believe such a thing was possible. Slowly, the more I thought about it, the more I kept thinking what a brilliant _genius_ she was. Why should I wait for good things to happen to me? Why should I set myself up for despair and failure by relying on something as fickle and ridiculously stupid like chance? Alice asked these questions and she had come to _her_ answer. In much the same way I had come to mine.

By the beginning of my Fifth year at Hogwarts, I had successfully shot Fate, Lady Luck and every other force just as fickle between the eyes. I wasn't about to let them jerk me around on a chain any longer. I was _sick_ of it—sick of all of it. When I returned to Hogwarts for my Fifth year, I immediately saw everyone for what they were: lazy, apathetic—people that would have no chance of survival if what happened to me happened to them.

Darwin's theory could never be crueller.

I didn't lie when I told James that Professor McGonagall wanted some things changed about the spring dance. I didn't object—I would be subject to one of two things if I didn't concede her wish, and I particularly didn't have a taste for either. So, I made the clearest and most obvious choice—I changed the flowers. It was a simple matter and simple solution. I didn't care either way—if it made McGonagall happy it made my life easier. There are many things I would and wouldn't dare do, but one of those things would still remain to never cross McGonagall on a particularly bad day. The day she had made the request of me was surely one of those days.

I later thanked her profusely for demanding such a change because it meant I could torment Potter a little more. After all, _he_ was the one with the perfect life I had craved enough to steal for. It's only fair that I personally bring him some karmic retribution in light of that. It's clear as day to me that he's fallen for me—but it's rather a muddy point to him—and I pride myself on this achievement—on whether I return the sentiment.

I can't help but laugh at that thought sometimes. Sometimes I think I love him and other times I find that I really just love tormenting him more—so I can't be sure. Such inner struggle, frustration and confliction I've never seen more prominent in any other person. Not only that, but he's terribly easy to tease. Surely, Sirius Black is a saint for not exploiting such a friend like James to the full entertaining potential he could provide. By the time I had seen James in that park, I was already too far synonymous to a devil than a saint to do anything but.

Surely he now rues and thanks God almighty for the day he met me.

"Evans, can you look these sheets over once more? I swear to Merlin they're not right—and I don't care what you say about me; my quality checks are flawless," she says in a rather dull, but haughty tone.

Keily Hawkes—a perfectionist through and through with the arrogance to match.

Perhaps the only person alive who couldn't care at least three ways to Hell about how much I had changed since the beginning of Fifth. We're not exactly friends, but we're not exactly rivals, enemies or whatever else you might want to call us. It's not like, but it's not dislike either. This type of personality she carried was probably to her credit for she aimed to be an Auror one day. Keily Hawkes was the type of person that could stop you dead in your tracks with her stone-cold face-value portrayal of reality and everything it was.

All very good traits of a Ravenclaw, but at the same time it left you wondering what the Sorting Hat was smoking not to put her in Slytherin when you considered how she used it.

I gather the papers up as I sigh. "You're such a stiff, Hawkes; I can't help but wonder what's bent you backwards all the time."

"Namely you, Evans," she returned artfully.

Keily Hawkes is the proud individual of being the only one that I have ever directed my words face-value at. You can't really get anywhere with her if you don't. Although I don't like it, I have to say I'd take her over Natalie any day of the week. Between us, there are no formalities—and possibly the only reason I trust her with so much work.

Even though I'm bristling a bit right now, I tell myself this is just how she is and won't allow it to affect me. At the doorway, I see none other than Alicia Rose—the precious glass doll that James had shattered to pieces. She's waiting patiently, staring right at me with eyes that aren't the least bit capable of anything but devotion and smiles. "I promise to look them over, love. I would entertain you for longer, but I have a visitor waiting for me."

Keily sent me a look of irritation before sending one to Alicia at the door—who visibly shrunk at the half-glare being directed at her. Oh poor Alicia, you would never be able to have handled this job—not with Keily 'Nightmare' Hawkes as one of the Ravenclaw prefects. With a frustrated sigh, Keily pursed her lips in irritation as I get up to leave.

Taking Alicia by the arm, I smile candidly at her. "What's the matter, love, what can Lily Evans, Head Girl, do for you?"

"I just wanted to talk to you is all, Lily—ask your advice on a few things," she returned evenly, kindly. Truly, Alicia Rose was a girl who could not harm a fly—and it's because of that she will never be able to survive outside of a bubble in this world. It was too harsh, too cruel and much too cunning for her. In her I see a bit of myself—and because of that I'm so ridiculously nice to her—I see myself as I might have become if evil fickle forces had not taken it all away from me.

"Of course, what's on your mind, darling?"

Another thing about Alicia was that she was so nice, sweet and gentle that it reminded someone like me that they still had shreds of a conscience left if you ever wronged them.

"James, actually," she admitted quite easily. My silence prods her to continue. "I'm just wondering what you think about him? I mean… it's quite clear that you two are… well, you know," she said with a slight laugh. I vaguely remember witnessing her talking to Sean Patil on much more than simply friendly terms and it rings clear as a bell in my mind now why she's not upset with me—or James—in the slightest.

"What I think of Potter? Well… he's a little high-strung, but I don't fault him for that. Nice boy, overall," I answer honestly. A bit _too_ nice for his own good, but I really didn't fault him for that either. After hearing a few interesting bits about him from his sisters, I can understand how he grew up the way he is now. Apparently, he's been engaged to this precious little flower for much longer than just a little while.

Alicia smiled—seemingly satisfied with that answer. "He is, isn't he? I'm very happy for you both." I simply smile—I will have to interrogate Potter about all of this later. "I have to ask though—no, I need to know—do you love him?"

At once, we stop walking and our arms are no longer connected. There is lamb-like innocence all over that face, but intuition and experience tell me that there's a wolf hidden under that skin. I have yet to figure out whether I feel inclined enough to believe it or not. I despise lying to the point that I would rather die than lie. I wouldn't save my life if it meant I had to lie for it. I have my beloved older sister Petunia to thank for that little gem of character sown, watered, and grown in me with every vile and mal-intent known to man.

As for the question at hand, I don't know if I can answer it honestly and _not_ lie. "Sorry, I can't really say, that's… something that should be kept between Potter and I."

"I understand, " Alicia says with a smile and bit of a laugh—really, such an amiable girl. "Very well then, I'll tell you everything I know about James. I've known him for a very long time, and I truly do wish the best for you both."

"Oh, do tell." Personally, I can figure Potter out all on my own, but having his secrets spilled so easily is simply something I couldn't pass up.

"Well, where to start then…? His favourite colour is surprisingly red—I always pictured him as a yellow. James is impossibly kind and unbelievably patient. I'm sure you've already seen such qualities."

Yes. I've seen them. And I've also been able to shatter them completely.

"When I first met James, he gave me a bouquet of beautiful roses. Back then, he was just as excited as I was to meet the one that he would one day marry—namely me. No longer, I guess. Anyway, as soon as I saw him it was love at first sight. Instantly. It could've been the roses; it could've been my parents; it could've been a number of things, but I knew that I loved him—unconditionally."

How commendable.

"So, it came to pass, since my fifth birthday, that we spend the summer holiday together—as well as Christmas. You were with us at Christmas, so I'm sure you know. James and I have been together for a very long time—so it's a bit weird to be without him after so much time. It can't be helped though; he loves you and not me, so all I can do is wish for your happiness."

I look away from her a bit abashedly—either it's real or I'm a terribly brilliant actor. I prefer to think it the latter—the former can always be exploited for every ounce the weakness it could be. I'd rather not give openings like that to the flawless character I've built from the ground up. Alice would never let such a thing happen and I don't intend to either.

"Oh, thank you."

A smile. "Not at all. James has always been so thoughtful of me, I sometimes wonder if this could be my fault—but I'm told that love plays by different rules than I would like it to. You know, Lily, I admire you terribly. You're so open, honest and such a good person to everyone—it's no wonder you're the Head Girl. I've… actually admired you for quite some time. You're just… so… I don't know, lively? I could never be like you. It's kind of silly, but sometimes when I find myself in trouble I think 'what would Lily Evans do?' and suddenly it's a bit less trouble in my life. Sometimes I wish I were you to the point it's maddening," she added wistfully.

This conversation is taking an awfully awkward turn.

"Tell me straight and honest, Lily Evans, do you love him? Truly?"

I smile sheepishly—once again, I cannot say if it's just good acting. Looking deep inside, I look at the place where I never wanted to. James Potter has given me my best times and some of my fondest memories of this year. Surely, without him, it would be a final, dull road to the success I had craved enough to steal for—craved enough to kill for. For I had gotten rid of everything I had been and adopted something new—adopted _someone_ new to replace who I was for everything I had gained.

Indeed, I can claim that I brought that storybook Alice to life—so that her heart now beats with mine—not in _tune_ with mine, but _as_ mine.

I never thought much about James Potter other than as a form of entertainment. It wasn't really until he put forth that silly rose question to me, admitting his split with this one right here, that I found myself thinking just a bit differently—happily even. I realized that it irritated me how they were engaged and I could do nothing about it—how he could do nothing about it—how Alicia was stuck marrying someone as lame and boring as James Potter. How James Potter was stuck marrying someone as dull and fragile as Alicia Rose. It felt wrong to me that dull people should marry each other.

After much teasing and probably much more suffering on James' part, I found that those few simple words—that he was no longer Alicia Rose's destined to be—I realize that I quite adore him. Call it love, affection, whatever you like—but I knew that I could not let him go after that. Now that he had cast Alicia to the guillotine, I decided I would take the opportunity presented to me. I think, honestly, I can say that, yes, I do probably love him—though I'd never tell him that. Probably never.

"Yes, if I have to say it, I truly do."

A smile so prominent and of the like I'd never seen formed itself on those lips of hers. The look in her eye had changed at the drop of a dime and all at once the mood around us changed. Even the slight tilt of that smile had changed from the usual smile she had been gracing me with all this time. I can't help but notice the so _very_ challenging look in her eye and I can't say I recognize it instantly, yet I can't say it's completely unfamiliar either. I've seen it before—but not often enough to count. Standing squarely in front of me, she lifts her head up just so—in a manner I never thought Alicia Rose was possible of.

Back to the question at hand: When life takes your lemons and your lemonade, you lie, cheat, steal and _kill_ to take it right back.

"Lily Evans," she states in a hard tone, "I declare war."

* * *

To My Reviewers:

Tell me, did you see _that _one coming? Oh, and for whoever reviewed about that 'Miss Wonderland' vibe, yes, that was my intention straight from the start. I'm always so happy when people review telling me what they think about my stories and it's bang on the money for what I was going for. Anyway, love and kisses to you all! As well as Happy Holidays for everyone! (I didn't quite update on Christmas like I said I would, but I'm sure you can forgive me for that.)

Comments:

Shorter chapters, in my opinion, are the best.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	16. Living Between Heaven and Hell

Chapter Sixteen: Living Between Heaven and Hell

What on _earth_ are you doing, James Potter?

"More tea, Alicia?"

Alicia smiled prettily at him. "Yes, that would be lovely."

It had only been a few hours on his appointed date with Alicia Rose and he had already formed the desire to decapitate Sean Patil in more ways than one. Really, she seemed a lot happier than she ever did when she was still engaged to him—but that could only be natural since this was just something new. Sean Patil was just something new—someone new. Like the new toy you get every Christmas, it gets old. Eventually, it would all go away, she would come to see the light and—

And _what_, James Potter?

Lily would understand. Of course he had explained it thoroughly to her, and—as expected—she didn't even show the slightest bit of reaction to that. It didn't bother her; in fact, she seemed perfectly okay with the idea. It wasn't like they were even really together at the moment anyway. There was nothing he should be worried about. Everything was fine. The air was crisp with newness and freshness and he was merely keeping up appearances with Alicia. That was all. This wasn't anything for Lily to be concerned about—not that she would be. He doubted that devil had any feelings.

There was nothing wrong with this scenery. A few students from school had passed by and commented on how 'The Big Day' was coming up. The boys would congratulate him with good sportsman-like nature and the appropriate slap on the back; while the girls all cooed at Alicia and asked standard questions regarding cake, colours and dresses. Of course, they were both very used to these questions by now, so the answers came easily, fluidly, effortlessly and seamlessly. It had come to the point that James knew all the answers to these questions as if they were a reflex.

Nothing was amiss; as far as everyone knew, he was just spending some time at a café with his fiancé that he would soon be marrying. If anything, this was a good thing—especially for Alicia. If anything, she had to see what a scumbag Sean Patil surely was. Clearly, the way she had been describing him all day long was merely a plot—an illusion and something entirely fake. The way she had described him to be was as if he were royalty of some sort. No one was that good. Especially another _boy_. If anything, Alicia should just drop him on his face and—

And _what_, James Potter?

The smile on James' face strained a bit and he nearly choked on his tea. Thankfully Alicia was looking away at something distant and didn't notice. Although it had only been a few hours on his appointed date with Alicia Rose, his conscience kept nagging at the edges of his mind for every _second_ of every _minute_ of each of those hours. Lily was okay with the idea—she had no objections. They weren't even really dating—which was the argument he returned every time his thoughts continued to ask just _what_ he was doing here. The thoughts were very accusatory in nature, and no matter how many times he came up with a perfectly good rebuttal he always felt the acrid taste of defeat.

Actually, she had asked him earlier in the week to get work done today, and that was the only reason he had even told her about today's date to 'keep up appearances' with Alicia.

Actually, James couldn't clearly remember if he had told her that last part or not.

Something told him it was the latter.

"I'm actually somewhat sad to see the snow is already melting here. I never got a chance to paint more of it while I was at home and it's already melting here," Alicia commented with a slightly sad look on her face.

James merely smiled before laughing a bit at her expense. Alicia turned to him, looking slightly scandalized and a little offended. "You should be happy, though. You love painting flowers, don't you? It means spring is on its way. I'd much rather look at flowers than boring old snow."

Slowly, her irritation broke way into a bright smile. Laughing, Alicia took a sip of her tea. "Yes, you're right. It _will_ be spring soon. I should be happy spring is coming soon. So, how are things with you and Lily?" she asked in a conversational tone. More than once, Alicia had switched topics when any mention of 'spring' came up. Of course, were they to still be engaged, they would have gotten married in the spring. It really was only natural.

Feeling himself stiffen slightly at the question, James quickly scanned his brain for his last _encounter_ with Lily—for they were not so much meetings or time spent together. They always left him feeling one of two things—utterly miserable that she held his heart so, and irritated to the point that he wanted to shake some sense into her and kiss her sense-less at the same time. Any way you looked at it, she brought frustration—whether it be welcomed or not—unto him.

"Splendid. Never better," he lied easily—perhaps a little too quickly though.

Alicia, the ever observant girl she was, blinked a few times and let out a short laugh at that. "It must be hard sometimes. Well, I'm glad it's working out anyway. Things with Sean are actually progressing quite quickly. Oh, James, he's just so… gallant and dashing," she said with a rather enthusiastic air as she continued to gush over Sean like a silly schoolgirl with a crush on someone—which, in this case, it may not be too far from the truth.

Oh Alicia, you'll never see just what kind of scum Sean Patil is. You two are not meant to be together in any way shape or form. In fact, the unity itself was a cause of concern. Whatever tragedy caused it to happen must have been the precursor to the Armageddon. Surely, truly, you are worth ten of him and if only you could see that then—

Then _what_, James Potter?

It was safe to say that train of thought came to a grinding halt.

"I'm glad that you've found such a reliable man like Patil. He's a bloody good Chaser and hard-working kind of person. You can't go wrong with him."

James thought his throat would burn at the words that were being let loose.

"Yes! Isn't he?" Alicia returned, beaming. "In so many ways, I'm really actually quite glad you ended the _you-know-what_," she hinted in conspiratorial manner. "If you hadn't, I never would have noticed what a wonderful person Sean is. Anyway, thanks for taking me out today, James, I really appreciate it. I don't want any nasty rumours to be flying around about you and Lily—or Sean and I," she added, almost as an afterthought.

Shaking his head, James got to his feet, offering his hand to her. "Not at all. I'm happy to be of service to such fine lady such as yourself." Alicia smiled and took his hand, rising to her feet. "I'll escort you back to the castle then?"

"I think I'll be quite alright, actually. I need to run a few boring errands I wouldn't want you caught up in. I'll… see you next week then? Just before the dance?"

Nodding firmly, James smiled at her. "Yes, that sounds wonderful. I'll see you then."

Giving him a perfect curtsey, Alicia followed it up with a brilliant smile. "I'll see you later, James—and, thank you. Tell Lily I said thanks too," she said as James nodded before she walked away down the street.

Although he couldn't help it, he felt irritation sweep over him as his imagination ran wild. No doubt those 'errands' of hers were to meet none other than Sean Patil. No matter how he spun it, James just knew something had to be done about this. It might even come to the point that he entails Sirius' questionable help in the matter. After all, they _did_ cause quite a panic together at school during the first four years until James calmed down enough—getting his goals—or rather his parents' goals—set straight.

With a reluctant sigh, James left Hogsmeade rather frustrated and returned to Hogwarts. Since leaving Hogsmeade, he had taken to muttering vague obscenities directed at Sean Patil to no one in particular. With Alicia no longer in sight, he was able to vent as much as he'd like and there was nothing his conscience could possibly do about it. After returning to the Heads Room, he sighed heavily, falling down on the couch with a groan as the portrait hole swung shut.

Soon enough, he saw Lily lean down over him from over the armrest. Fiery, unnaturally red hair swept around his face like a curtain and tickled his chin. Amusement shone brightly in her clear green eyes. "Your date went well, I see." James royally frowned at her, turning over on his side as she walked around and sat down on the narrow space of the couch that was available by his waist. Crossing her legs, propping one over the other, she tilted her head to him as a look of satisfaction came over her. "Why so glum, James?" she asked casually.

James sighed quietly to himself. Now her gaze had swept up to the ceiling, hands folded on her propped-up knee. Truth be told, he couldn't do much other than simply blink at her—half-expecting the witty remark to come shortly after—as it surely would. Lily was not the type of person to spare such a golden opportunity frustrate him or cause him misery. For someone who surely knew everything about anything—she was asking this question rather earnestly—almost as if she didn't really expect him to answer properly.

With a grievous sigh, James pursed his lips in irritation. There was no use to hide it from her. The all-knowing Lily would find out one way or another, it seemed. "Alicia Rose has started dating Sean Patil."

There was a glint in her eyes and she swivelled them over in his direction quickly. As she blinked pointedly, her eyes had returned to looking up at the ceiling before uncrossing her legs and getting up. James followed her with his eyes for a moment before closing them wearily. Why was he so frustrated about who Alicia was seeing? Shouldn't he, really, be elated that Alicia was with someone else? Lily was _right there_ after all. Every checkpoint had been checked and every obstacle removed.

"And you're pining for her—the kitten you dumped flat on her face. Shall you reclaim her then?" she asked curiously, getting up and sitting down at the nearby table.

Another heavy sigh left his lips and James slung one arm over his eyes. "I've simply left the frying pan to hop into a sinking boat," he muttered miserably.

"Lesser of two evils," she said simply—as if she were giving him the solution to all of his problems—a true irony considering she often caused him more problems than he ever began with.

Pausing for a moment, James sat up and stared at her. She was sitting at the table, legs crossed impeccably and writing something down on a memo pad. As he continued to watch her writing gracefully, he felt his pulse calm slightly; though it pounded in his chest—like time had slowed just enough for it to feel like a normal pace. The sight of her doing such a mundane task as writing calmed him down. Heat flushed his cheeks and he imagined himself standing up and wrapping his arms around her spontaneously—like she had done to him on so many an occasion. What would her reaction be like? What would she say?

Just like many others, James knew these questions would go unanswered for he would never have the nerve to do it. There was no way that James could ever match up with or compete with Lily in that instance. Surely, he doubted that there was anyone that could. Effortlessly, flawlessly, he was quite certain that she could beat all the odds—no matter how very stacked they may be against her. In his mind, Lily was like a runaway stallion—beautiful, magnificent, pristine, and if you didn't get out of its way it was likely to trample over you.

The sound and image of Lily cackling madly while saying something akin to 'Eat my dust' was so real in his mind that James winced at it.

One way or another, his mind wandered back to the random letter he had found in his desk and curiosity got the better of him. If it was from Lily his mind would be surely made up—just like it had been so very much while cursing the name of Sean Patil. It would mean that he would, for once, have something to tease Lily about for the rough estimation of three minutes before that quick wit of hers handed his head back to him on a silver platter complete with her compliments and dessert. As short and sweet as the victory would surely be, he wondered if it would be worth the effort.

Getting to his feet, he sat up on the table, leaning over the memo pad. Lily was writing down a few details for the spring dance. Now James wished he had the foresight to carry the letter around with him rather than keep it locked up in his dresser. The cursive lines that graced the paper were elegant and beautiful—writing that made you swear that she had taken calligraphy classes. Honestly, James half-expected chicken-scratch, but then again, nothing surprised him about Lily anymore. Even so, he couldn't be sure if it was her writing or not—as easily as it was to recognize.

Simply because James Potter noticed things like that about Lily. Including but not limited to the way she always turned the handle of her tea cup to the right after setting it down and how she differentiated the days of the week by turning her shampoo.

"Something for you, Potter?" she asked finally, her brow creasing minutely in irritation.

Coughing in response to allow himself to think of something, James swallowed. Lily looked so much like a refined lady right now that it was _almost_ surprising. That perfectly straight back and the way you could probably balance a book on her head right now were all testament to that. Right now, it also became painfully clear how he didn't really know a lot about Lily in general. He was much too busy always thinking what a demon she was to really consider anything beyond the way she was—for surely it wasn't so much an act as a way of life for her.

"I'm just thinking that your writing is… well… immaculate."

Lily raised a curious eyebrow at him but didn't bother looking his way. "Your point?"

Pursing his lips, James decided that the worst that could happen would be that she laughed at him. After all, there was no one else in the room to say otherwise or keep record. Surely Lily wouldn't say anything to anyone—she wasn't the type to gossip—it was more like she was the type to be gossiped about. The way she was so very loved and hated by the very student population she had direct influence and, to some degree, tyranny over.

Reaching out, he pulled a bit of her long red hair out. It really was too red to be natural, but the ruby red locks suited her so perfectly that he wasn't about to say something about it. Aside from the colour, her hair was also exquisitely soft—probably a testament of the shampoo that she used every day. Breathing deeply of its scent, he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he saw Lily looking at him, her head tilted slightly and resting on bridged hands. A crooked smile touched her lips as she stared at him expectantly—almost like he had already made a fool of himself.

Just once, he wanted to see Lily blush—completely flustered and not knowing what to say. It was always the opposite so often that Sirius had once made a rather blunt comment that it was 'painfully clear who wore the pants in the relationship.' To say the least, that comment earned Sirius quite the picture perfect black eye. Even so, for her face to flush… he wanted to see it.

"What it would take, do you think, for you to fall in love with me?" he asked, holding those sparkling green eyes rapt—or so he hoped.

The smile widened. "Silly boy, didn't I already say I love duck?"

James fought the urge to throw in the towel—to turn absolutely pitch red and turn away, opening the door to allow her to laugh at his failure. Instead, he leaned closer to her until their foreheads barely touched and he could feel the intensity of her stare make him light-headed enough to want to just turn away. Something told him that he was wading in the deep end of the pool, but it was the deep end that you could dive into so easily. It was also the deep end of the pool that you could drown so easily.

"Enough to kiss a duck?" he murmured softly into her hair pressed against his lips—knowing full well he was pushing his luck by this point. Closing his eyes, he revelled in the touch of her hair to his lips and breathed in its intoxicating scent.

A short laugh and Lily reached up to place a hand on his face, brushing her thumb over his right eye. James could feel her hand on his skin—her touch cool against his fevered skin, sowing a need in him like a lukewarm poisoning addiction. Every nerve stood on end and his breath became caught in his throat as he could feel every individual hair on the back of his neck rise with anticipation. The air grew thick around him as he found himself slowly suffocating in her intoxicating choice of perfume as their foreheads had somehow come to touch. Whatever the scent on her was, it was deadly and it was infecting his body like a toxin spreading from his buzzed head straight down to his roots.

"Feel like drowning yet, James?" whispered her smooth as silk voice—only loud enough for him to hear. "Won't you give in and say it?" The way she said it was so sweet and fragile that he knew if he were to say anything it would shatter and cut him. In comparison, it would have been like disturbing virgin snow.

Her voice.

Her touch.

Her scent.

It suffocated him.

It tantalized him.

When he opened his eyes and stared into her eyes he saw a lake of green, shifting and teasing as well as soft and warm. James could see himself reflected in those pools of venom—caught in the crystal web that she had spun so perfectly to trap him. A slight shiver ran up along his spine; threatening to paralyze him—like a deer caught in the headlights, like a rabbit staring into the eyes of the fox—helpless for all but to stare into those shining, dangerous eyes. It was a stare so intense from her that he was scared he would break under the strain—under the pressure—of trying to match those orbs that seeped poison straight to his heart.

The situation that he had tried to control from the start she had wrested from him so easily—it wasn't funny.

It gave him a helpless feeling—like he was a bug caught in the resin of amber, like a silly moth too close to the inviting warmth of the fire. As if flicking a switch, his mind went blank of everything—of common sense, of reason, of understanding—and it was all replaced by burning need that pressed in so close that he may be crushed without it.

Lily.

Lily was his flame, his poison, his amber, his black widow.

Lily was everything he needed right now.

"Lily…" he breathed, opening his eyes.

"Shh…" she whispered, placing a finger to her mouth. "Is the fire too hot?" she said in the same manner she did earlier.

James couldn't take it anymore, he was a man with a need and she was the only one who could supply for it. Moving, he aimed to capture her lips only to find that he almost fell off the table in doing so. Lily had moved away, a laugh at the edge of her lips. Not being deterred by this, he moved once again, only to find that she moved with him—like they were dancing around each other—keeping an equal distance away from the other yet moving in perfect harmony.

"Lily…" he said quietly, looking at her with desperate eyes.

"Say it, James… say what only you can say. Say what you _know_ I want to hear."

"I…" he started, feeling breathless—swallowing in an attempt to remedy his dry throat.

"Yes?"

The moment was tense for him and he didn't, for the life of him, know what she wanted to hear. Even though the answer sounded so simple and obvious, James couldn't put his finger on it. It didn't look like he was going to get that kiss he wanted out of her until he said it either. When he looked into her eyes, they were hopeful—begging, pleading—that he would say _it_. Whatever that _it_ was, James still didn't know. Above all that, they were patient—like she could be content to sit there for all eternity just staring into his eyes until he said _it._

"Say… what do you want me to say?"

Closing her eyes, Lily let out a short sigh, flipping her hair out once before getting to her feet. Ripping the piece of paper she had been scribbling on off the memo pad, she walked away from him. "Precious and important things can't remain unspoken, James Potter. Words in the air exist only if you write them—with the voice that is uniquely yours."

Just like that, the moment was over—and James had the unmistakable feeling that he was the one to end it.

"Lily, I—"

Lily cocked her head over her shoulder and the look she gave him silenced him on the spot. A smile tugged at her lips and it made his heart ache. "It's addictive, isn't it? Temptation, that is. Dear McGonagall has requested my presence and I have no plans to make her angry by delaying it. I intend to win, James Potter, and _you're_ going to help me," she added mysteriously before leaving through the portrait hole.

With a sigh, James closed his eyes—mind reeling as he ran a hand through his hair—as if it would stop the spinning or return his brain and knees to a more solidified and functional form. Despite everything that had just happened and the feeling that a low-flying plane had just passed overhead without his knowing it, James couldn't help but still wonder just _what_ he was supposed to say. What did she want to hear? What was that _thing_ that only he could say? And… above all that…

What happened?

James couldn't understand. He knew everything but. Everything that happened before the incident blurred in his mind and he couldn't think straight—hell, he couldn't even see straight right now. The memory of her touch, her scent, her voice—that was all that ran through his mind; like a broken record—over and over and over and over. Repeating in his minds eye numerous, countless times, tantalizing him with sights, sounds and sensations that lifted him to cloud nine before dropping him without a parachute.

Sitting up, James coughed—as if he were drowning, gasping for breath until he fought for control over his breathing and it was once again even, once again normal. Letting out a sigh, James hopped off the table, ruffling his untameable hair once more. Lily was probably halfway to McGonagall by now—she was just that type of cold-hearted person to not even consider the state she had purposely put—and left—him in. The last time anything even close to that calibre had happened between them was when they were trapped in the corridor.

Even as he left the dorm he shared with her he couldn't help but feel those sharp green eyes still staring at him, still pinning his heart down helplessly, like a bird being pinned down by its wings. Escape was impossible.

James knew that.

And yet he still found himself so much deeper down that rabbit hole that he couldn't even tell the way out.

* * *

To My Reviewers:

Love and kisses. Always. If you don't care enough to check out my news section on my profile page, that's okay, I understand. I'm the same. But anyway: I took a break to play with my newest toy--Photoshop CS4. I promised you I'd be back sometime in February, and here I am. With a typical Monday update. Typical? Atypical? I'm not certain. Thank you for your patience and allowing me, willingly or unwillingly, to mess around with my newest toy.

With that said, I'd like to start promoting my next story in the works. Yes, that means _Your Choice of Flower_ is nearly complete. It is called _Liar Game_ and it is for my much loved Cardcaptor Sakura. Even if you've never seen the series, I encourage you to read it because you don't need to have watched the series to understand what's going on in this story. I've made sure of that. I didn't get enough votes in my poll to influence my decision otherwise, and so Lily and James will have to sit it out on the back burner for the next round.

Comments:

Well, we've all had a hair fetish at least once in our life. Of the two most common spelling typos I make they are, without a doubt: Chatpers and Commets. There's a bit of Useless Knowledge About Minute Maid for you to stick in the back of your mind where every other bit of trivial information is stored.

Please R&R.

daiM etuniM -

.sneeuQ fo egareveB


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